UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 

b.   Campbell 


BOOKS  AND  READING; 


OR, 


WHAT  BOOKS  SHALL  I  READ 


HOW  SHALL  I  EEAD  THEM? 


NOAH^ORTEE,  D.D.,  LL.D.. 

i*ROPESSOR  IN  Yale  College. 


FOURTH   EDITION,    WITH  AN  INDEX. 


— and  books  we  know 
Are  a  sntstantial  world,  both  pure  and  good ; 
Round  these,  with  tendrils  strong  as  flesh  and  blood. 
Our  pastime  and  our  happiness  will  grow. 


NEW  YORK: 
SCRIBNER,    ARMSTRONG    &    CO., 

654    BROADWAY. 
1873. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Oongress,  In  tho  jear  1870.  by 

CHARLKS  BruiBNKR  4  ri\ 
til  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Wasningtoa. 


JjIS.  B.  RODGERS  CO.t 

Elictrottpers, 

63  A  M  N.  Sixth  St.,  Philadelphia. 


0 


z. 

\0O'b 


THIS  VOLUME 


I  IS  INSCRIBED  BY  THE  AUTHOB 

TO  HIS  HONORED  FRIEND, 


^  MISS  MARY  LUCAS  HILLHOUSE, 


WHOSE  LONG  AND  USEFUL  LIFE 

HAS  BEEN  ENTHUSIASTICALLY  DFVOTED 

TO  BOOKS  AND  READING; 

AND  NONE  THE  LESS  WISELY  AND  EFFICIENTLY, 

TO  THE  MANY  GOOD  OBJECTS 

WHICH  HAVE  ENLISTED 

HER  WOMANLY  SYMPATHIES 

.AND  HER  SAGACIOUS  BENEVOLENCE. 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arcliive 

in  2007  witli  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/bool<sreadingorwliOOportiala 


PEEFAOE. 


The  papers  contained  in  this  volume  have 
grown  out  of  a  lecture  which  was  written  several 
years  ago,  and  has  been  often  repeated.  The 
lecture  was  originally  designed  to  meet  the  wants 
of  younger  and  older  persons  who  might  be  in  a 
condition  to  be  profited  by  a  few  practical  sugges- 
tions, enforced  by  illustrations  from  well-known 
authors.  The  papers  have  been  expanded  with 
a  similar  intent.  The  didactic  form  and  manner 
of  the  lecture  has  been  designedly  retained  as  al- 
lowing greater  condensation  and  directness,  and  as 
more  appropriate  to  the  position  of  a  teacher  and 
counsellor.  Useful  suggestions  have  not  been 
omitted  even  though  to  many  they  might  seem 
common-place.  The  illustrations  have  usually 
been  derived  from  authors  who  might  be  sup- 
posed to  be  familiar  to  the  reader.  The  wants  of 
those  beginning  to  read  have  been  especially  con- 
sidered, while  those  who  are  more  or  less   fami- 

V 


VI  PRE  r  ACE. 


liar  with  books  and  practised  in  reading  have  not 
been  wholly  overlooked. 

A  sufficiently  extended  account  of  the  aims  of 
the  author  and  of  the  plan  of  this  series  of  papers 
is  given  in  the  First  Chapter.  In  executing  the 
plan  proposed,  the  author  has  been  led  to  discuss 
somewhat  more  at  length  than  he  had  intended, 
the  prominent  characteristics  of  different  classes 
of  Books  and  the  conditions  of  success  in  different 
descriptions  of  Beading.  He  hopes  that  the  effect 
of  these  discirssions  may  lead  to  more  comprehen- 
sive and  elevated  estimates  of  authors  and  of  lite- 
rature on  the  part  of  those  who  read  themselves  or 
who  direct  the  reading  of  others,  and  that  in  this 
and  other  ways,  the  volume  may  stimulate  to  a 
wise  selection  of  Books  and  to  enlightened  and 
successful  methods  of  Reading. 

October,  1870. 


P.  S. — The  work  has  been  so  favorably  received,  that  spe- 
cial efforts  have  been  made  to  perfect  it  before  issuing  a  new 
edition.  Many  of  the  errors  and  oversights  have  been  cor- 
rected. A  copious  Index  has  been  prepared  Avhich,  besides 
contaiQing  references  to  all  the  topics  which  are  discussed, 
and  to  most  of  the  authors  and  works  which  are  in  any  way 
referred  to,  will  answer  all  the  ends  of  a  classified  list  of 
books,  so  far  as  such  a  list  is  needed  or  can  be  usefully  em- 
ployed by  the  persons  for  whom  this  volume  was  written. 

April,  1871. 


CO]^TE]S"TS. 


CHAPTEE  I. 

Page. 

INTRODUCTORY.  .....  1 

CHAPTER  IT. 

WHAT  IS  A   BOOK?    AND  WHAT  IS   IT  TO  READ?  .  18 

CHAPTER  HI. 

HOW  TO  READ — ATTENTION  IN  READING.  .  ,  28 

CHAPTER  IV. 

HOW  TO   READ  WITH   INTEREST    AND    EFFECT.  .  37 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE  RELATIONS  OF  THE  EE-^DER  TO  HIS  AUTHOR.  .  48 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  INFLUENCE  OF  BOOKS  AND   READING   ON  THE   OPINIONS 

AND  PRINCIPLES.         .....  62 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  MORAL  INFLUENCE  OF  BOOKS  AND  READING. — THE  READ- 
ING OF  FICTION.  .....  72 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

IMAGINATIVE  LITERATURE :   ITS  REPRESENTATIONS  OF  MORAL 

EVIL.  ......  81 

CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  RELIGIOUS  CHARACTER  AND  INFLUENCE  OF  BOOKS  AND 

BEADlIfG.         .  .  .  .  .  .  101 

vii 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  X. 

Paob. 

A  CHRISTIAN  LITERATUBE:   HOW  CONCEIVED  AND  DEFINED.  Ill 

CHAPTER  XI. 

HISTORY  AND  HISTORICAL  READING.       .  .  .  125 

CHAPTER  XII. 

HOW  TO  READ  HISTORY.  ....  143 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

A  COURSE  OF  HISTORICAL  READING.        .  .  166 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

BIOGRAPHY  AND  BIOGRAPHICAL  READING.  .  .  .195 

CHAPTER  XV. 

NOVELS  AND  NOVEL  READING.        .      .      ,        218 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

POETRY  AND  POETS.  ...  .  240 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  CRITICISM  AND  HISTORY  OF  LITERATURE.  .  265 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  CRITICISM  OF  ENGLISH  LITERATURE.  .  .  285 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

BOOKS  OF  SCIENCE  AND  DUTY.  .  .  .  303 

CHAPTER  XX. 

RELIGIOUS  BOOKS  AND  SUNDAY   READING.  .  .  322 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

NEWSPAPERS  AND   PERIODICAI^.  ...  341 

CHAPTER  XXn. 

THE  LIBRARY.        ......  860 


BOOKS  AND  READING: 

OR, 

WHAT  BOOKS  SHALL  I  READ,  AND  HOVf 
SELALL  I  READ  THEM? 


CHAPTER  I. 

INTBODXJCTORY.  ^ 

"Were  a  South-sea  Islander  to  be  suddenly  taken  up 
from  his  savage  home  and  set  down  in  one  of  the  great 
cities  of  Europe, — among  the  many  strange  objects  which 
he  would  see,  one  of  the  most  incomprehensible  would  be 
a  publie  library. 

A  cathedral  he  would  at  once  understand.  Its  vast  area 
would  suggest  a  counterpart  in  the  inclosure  which  from 
his  childhood  onward  he  had  known  and  feared  as  a  place 
of  worship.  Its  clustered  pillars  and  lofty  arches  would 
bring  to  mind  a  well-remembered  grove  of  old  and  stately 
trees,  "with  sounding  walks  between;"  the  dreaded  dwell- 
ing of  some  cruel  deity,  or  the  fit  arena  for  some  "abhorred 
rite."  The  altar,  the  priests,  the  reverent  worshipers, 
would  speak  to  his  mind  their  own  meaning. 

A  military  parade  he  might  comprehend  without  an  in- 
terpreter's aid.  The  measured  tread  of  gathered  legions 
would,  indeed,  differ  not  a  little  from  the  wild  rush  of  his 
own  barbarous  clan ;  the  inspiring  call  of  trumpet  and  horn, 

1 


2  Books  and  Heading.  [Chap,  l 

of  fife  and  drum,  blending  with  all  those  nameless  instru- 
ments which  make  the  music  of  war  so  splendid  and  so  >^ 
spirit-stirring,  would  be  unlike  the  horrid,  dissonant  noises,  ^ 
with  which  the  savage  sounds  out  his  bloody  errand;  but  ^ 
the  object  and  purpose  of  the  show  would  be  seen  at  a  .:5 
glance,  and  would  wake  up  all  the  warrior  in  his  bosom.      ";^i 

A  festive  gathering  of  lords  and   ladies  gay  would  be   "^ 
quite  an  intelligible  affair,  and  the  more  closely  he  should    2^ 
look  into  the  particulars  of  the  transaction,  the  more  nu-  *^ 
merous,  it  is  possible,  might  be  the  points  of  resemblance    ;v 
between  the  barbaric  and  the  fashionable  assembly.  '  ♦- 

A  gallery  of  paintings,  adorned  with  the  proudest  tro- 
phies of  genius,  might  not  be  altogether  without  meaning; 
for  though  the  savage  would  look  upon  the  creations  of 
Raphael  or  Titian  with  somewhat  such  an  eye  as  that  M'ith 
which  Caliban  looked  upon  Miranda,  yet  the  uses  of  such 
a  collection,  which  the  price  of  his  own  kingdom  could  not 
buy,  would  not  be  entirely  beyond  his  comjjrehension. 

But  a  public  library  would  be  too  much  for  him.  It 
would  prove  a  mystery  quite  beyond  his  reach.  Its  de- 
sign and  its  utility  would  be  alike  incomprehensible.  The 
front  of  the  edifice  within  which  the  library  was  placed, 
might  indeed  command  his  admiration:  and  witliin,  the 
lofty  arches,  the  lengthened  aisles  and  the  labyrinthine 
succe&sion  of  apartments,  might  attract  and  bewilder  him. 
The  books  even,  rising  one  above  another  in  splendid  lines, 
and  dressed  in  gilt  and  purple  and  green,  might  seem  to 
his  savage  eye  a  very  pretty  sight;  though  they  would 
please  that  eye  just  as  well  if  carved  and  colored  upon 
the  solid  wall,  or  if,  as  has  been  the  fancy  of  certain 
owners  of  libraries,  the  volumes  had  been  wrought  from 
solid  wood — fit  books  for  the  wooden  heads  that  ownetl 
them. 

The  mystery  of  the  library  to  the  savage,  would  be  the 
books  in  it, — what  they  were,  what  they  were  for,  and  why 


Chap.  I.]  Introductory.  3 

they  were  thought  worthy  to  be  lodged  in  a  building  so 
imposing,  and  watched  with  such  jealous  care.  If  he 
should  linger  among  the  apartments  for  reading,  and  watch 
the  movements  of  the  inmates,  his  wonder  would  be  likely 
to  increase.  His  eye  might  rest  upon  Dr.  Dryasdust,  the 
antiquarian,  as  with  anxious  look  and  bustling  air  he 
rushes  into  one  closet  after  another,  takes  volume  after 
volume  from  its  dusty  retreat,  looks  into  each  as  the  con- 
juring priest  at  home  looks  into  a  tree  or  a  stone  to  see  the 
spirit  within,  and  after  copying  from  each  in  strange  char- 
acters, stuffs  the  manuscript  into  his  pocket,  and  walks  off 
as  proudly  as  though,  like  the  self-same  priest,  he  had 
caught  and  bagged  the  spirit  in  some  fetigh,  amulet,  or  me- 
dicine-bag. The  man  of  science  sits  for  hours  unconscious 
of  the  presence  of  the  wondering  savage,  and  seems  more 
and  more  bewildered  as  he  gazes  upon  a  single  page. 
The  savage  watches  the  poet  residing  a  favorite  author,  and 
marvels  at  the  mysterious  influence  that  dilates  his  eye 
and  kindles  his  cheek,  and  sends  madness  througli  his 
frame.  He  is  astonished  at  the  reader  of  fiction,  looking 
upon  what  seems  to  him  a  vacant  page,  and  yet  seeming  to 
see  in  its  enchanted  lines  a  Morld  of  spirits, — living, 
moving,  talking,  walking,  loving,  hating,  fighting,  dying. 
Should  he  seek  an  explanation  of  the  enigma,  the  expla- 
nation would  rather  deepen  than  solve  the  mystery.  Here 
is  a  volume,  his  interpreter  might  say,  by  the  aid  of  whose 
characters  the  shipmaster  can  guide  his  vessel  to  your 
island-home  as  easily  as  you  can  follow'  a  forest  path. 
From  this  volume  you  can  learn  the  story  of  that  famous 
white  captain  who  first  landed  upon  your  shores,  in  the 
days  of  your  great-grandfather,  and  was  there  killed  and 
buried;  and — mystery  above  mystery — in  this  little  book 
which  gives  an  account  of  the  discovery  of  your  country  by 
the  white  man,  will  be  found  the  sufficient  reason  why  his 
majesty",  our  kins;,  has  a  right  to  burn  your  towns,  to  shoot 


/ 


4  Books  and  Reading.  [Ghap.  l 

down  your  people,  to  take  possession  of  your  land  and 
bring  you  hither  as  a  captive;  all  by  authority  of  dis- 
covery, and  of  a  title-deed  from  some  king  or  other  poten- 
tate who  never  saw  the  country  which  he  gave  away. 

This  lesson  concerning  the  nature  and  value  of  books 
would  probably  be  quite  enough  for  once,  and  would  send 
the  poor  barbarian  away,  well  satisfied  that  a  book  was  in- 
deed a  very  wonderful  thing,  and  that  a  collection  of  boolcs 
well  deserved  to  be  deposited  in  a  dwelling  so  adorned  and 
so  secure. 

Were  our  savage  to  remain  longer  among  his  civilized 
brethren,  and  gradually  to  master  the  mysteries  of  tlieir 
social  state,  his  estimate  of  the  influence  of  books  would  be 
likely  to  gather  strength.  To  say  nothing  of  their  past  in- 
fluence in  bringing  a  nation  up  to  a  point  at  which  he 
could  only  wonder  and  be  silent,  their  present  power  to  de- 
termine the  character  and  destiny  of  single  individuals* 
might  startle  and  surprise  him.  A  few  pages  in  a  single 
volume  fall  as  it  were  by  chance  under  the  eye  of  a  boy 
in  his  leisure  houi*s.  -They  fascinate  and  fix  his  attention; 
they  charm  and  hold  his  mind;  and  the  result  is,  that  the 
boy  becomes  a  sailor  and  is  wedded  to  the  sea  for  h'ls  life. 
No  force  nor  influence  can  undo  the  work  "begun  by  those 
few  pages;  no  love  of  father  or  mother,  no  temptation  of 
money  or  honor,  no  fear  of  sufiering  or  disgrace,  is  an 
overmatch  for  the  enchantment  conjured  up  and  sustained 
by  that  exciting  volume.  A  single  book  has  made  the  boy 
a  seaman  for  life;  perhaps  a  pirate,  wretched  in  his  life 
and  death.  Another  book  meets  the  eye  of  another  youth, 
and  wakes  in  his  bosom  holy  aspirations,  which,  all  his  life 
after,  burn  on  in  the  useless  flames  of  a  painful  asceticism, 
or  in  a  kindly  love  to  God  and  man.  Another  youth  in 
an  unhappy  hour  meets  still  another  volume,  and  it  makes 
him  a  hater  of  his  fellow-man  and  a  blasphemer  of  his  God. 
One  book  makes  one  man  a  believer  in  goodness  and  love 


Chap.  I.]  Introductory.  5 

and  truth ;  another  book  makes  another  man  a  denier  or 
doubter  of  these  sacred  verities. 

These  thoughts  may  serve  to  introduce  our  subject  and 
to  suggest  its  importance.  Books  and  Reading  are  the 
theme — or  rather  the  themes — on  which  it  is  proposed  to 
offer  a  series  of  free  and  familiar  thoughts,  principally  of  a 
practical  nature.  The  importance  of  the  subject  is  not 
only  great,  but  it  is  constantly  increasing.  Books,  as  an 
element  of  influence,  are  becoming  more  and  more  import- 
ant, and  reading  is  the  employment  of  a  widening  circle. 
Books  of  all  sorts  are  now  brought  within  the  reach  of 
most  persons  who  desire  to  read  them.  The  time  has 
gone  by  when  the  mass  of  the  community  were  restricted 
to  a  score  or  two  of  volumes :  the  Bible,  one  or  two  works 
of  devotion,  two  or  three  standard  histories,  and  a  half- 
dozen  novels.  Many  intelligent  men  can  recollect  the 
time  when  all  the  books  on  which  they  could  lay  their 
hands  were  few,  and  were  read  and  re-read  till  they  were 
dry  as  a  remainder  biscuit,  or  as  empty  as  a  thrice- 
threshed  sheaf. 

There  are  ladies  now  living,  who  were  well  educated  for 
their  time,  to  w^liom  the  loan  or  the  gift  of  a  new  book 
was  an  important  event  in  their  history,  making  a  winter 
memorable,  and  now  their  daughters  or  grands-daughters 
dispatch  a  novel  or  a  poem  before  dinner.  All  die  known 
books  for  children,  two  generations  ago,  were  some  half  a 
score;  wliereas,  at  present,  new  "juveniles"  are  prepared 
by  tlie  hundred  a  year,  and  the  library  of  a  child  ten 
years  old  is  very  often  more  numerous  and  costly  than  was 
that  of  many  a  substantial  and  intelligent  household. 
The  minds  of  tens  of  thousands  are  stimulated  and  oc- 
cupied with  boohs,  booJ:s,  boohs,  from  three  years  old  on- 
ward thrmigh  youth  and  manhood.  We  read  when  we 
sit,  when  we  lie  down,  and  when  we  ride;  sometimes 
when  we  eat  and  when  we  walk.     When  we  travel  we  en- 


6  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  r. 

counter  a  moving  library  on  every  railway  car,  and  a  fixed 
library  at  every  railway  station.  Books  are  prepared  for 
railway  reading,  and  Railway  Library  is  the  title  of  more 
than  one  series  of  books  in  America,  England,  France,  and 
Germany.  We  read  when  we  are  well  and  when  we  are 
ill,  when  we  are  busy  and  when  w^e  are  idle,  and  some 
even  die  with  a  book  in  hand.  There  is  little  use  for  the 
caution  now-a-days,  "  Beware  of  the  man  of  one  book." 
If  it  be  true,  as  it  may  be,  that  single  books  make  an  im- 
pression less  marked  and  decisive  than  formerly,  so  that  a 
bad  or  inferior  book  may  do  less  harm  than  it  once  did,  it 
is  also  true  that  bad  books  and  inferior  books  are  far  more 
common  than  they  once  were.  Their  poison  is  also  moro 
subtle  and  .less  easily  detected,  for  as  the  taste  of  readers 
becomes  omnivorous,  it  becomes  less  discriminating.  Be- 
sides, the  readiness  with  which  good  men,  and  men  sturdy 
in  their  principles  too,  read  books  which  they  despise  and 
abhor,  has  introduced  a  freedom  of  practice  on  this  sub- 
ject, at  which  other  generations  would  have  stood  aghast. 
In  many  cases  too,  if  the  principles  are  not  corrupted  by 
reading,  the  taste  is  vitiated.  Or  if  nothing  worse  hap- 
pens, delicacy  of  appreciation  suffers  from  the  amount  of 
intellectual  food  which  is  forced  upon  us,  and  the  satisfac- 
tion is  far  less  keen  and  exquisite  than  was  enjoyed  by 
readers  of  a  few  books  of  superior  merit. 

The  number  of  persons  who  ask  the  questions :  What 

BOOKS  SHALL  I  READ?  AND  HOW  SHALL  I  READ  THEM? 

is  very  great.  Those  who  are  beginning  to  feel  an  inter- 
est in  books  and  reading,  and  who  long  for  friendly  direc- 
tion, ask  these  questions  more  frequently  than  they  receive 
wise  and  satisfactory  answers.  Intelligent  young  men, 
w^ho  have  finished  their  education  at  school — clerks,  ap- 
prentices, farmers,  teachers  who  are  moved  by  a  wise  and 
sincere  desire  for  self-culture  and  self-improvement — ask 
the  same  questions  of  themsc^lves  and  others.     If  they  go 


Chap.  L]  '  Introductory.  7 

into  a  bookstore,  they  are  bewildered  by  the  number  and 
variety  of  the  books  from  which  they  are  to  select,  and 
their  chance  selection  is  as  likely,  to  say  the  least,  to  be 
bad  as  good.  It  will  rarely  happen  that  it  is  the  best 
which  could  be  made.  "The  bookseller  can  tell  them  what 
books  are  popular  and  have  a  run,  but  this  recommenda- 
tion is  of  a  doubtful  character.  They  may  have  access  to 
a  well-selected  library,  but  still  they  are  at  fault,  not 
knowing  how  or  what  to  choose  for  their  immediate  and 
individual  wants.  Students  also,  who  are  in  a  course  of 
education  at  school  or  college,  or  who,  having  finished 
their  course,  would  mark  out  for  themselves  a  generous 
plan  of  private  reading,  are  often  greatly  at  a  loss  for  the 
best  answers  to  the  questions  which  they  would  ask. 
Their  time  is  limited,  and  they  pertinaciously  inquire : — 
What  books  ought  I  to  read  first  of  all,  and  what  next 
in  order  ?  In  what  way  can  a  student  form  and  direct  a* 
taste  for  the  highest  kind  of  literature  ?  How  far  can  he 
trust,  and  ought  he  to  follow  his  fancy;  how  far  should  he 
thwart  and  oppose  his  taste,  and  seek  to  form  it  anew? 
Are  there  any  fixed  principles  of  criticism,  by  which  the 
best  books  may  be  known,  and  a  taste  for  them  formed 
and  fixed  ?  Young  ladies,  too,  who  are  sooner  released 
from  the  confinement  of  school-life  and  the  drudgery  of 
imposed  studies — who  often  fix  the  taste  and  prescribe  the 
fashion  for  the  reading  of  the  village  or  the  circle  in  which 
they  move — often  sadly  suffer  for  the  w^ant  of  a  little 
direction.  Their  sensibility  is  fresh,  their  fancy  is  wake- 
ful, their  taste  is  easily  moulded.  If  guided  aright,  they 
might  attain  to  a  cultivated  acquaintance  with  those  ima- 
ginative Avriters  who  would  inspire  the  purest  and  tender- 
est  emotions  and  enrich  the  fancy  with  the  noblest  images ; 
Avho  would  elevate  their  tastes  and  confirm  good  and  noble 
principles.  For  the  want  of  such  direction,  it  often  hap- 
pens that  such  young  ladies  read  themselves  down  into  an 


8  BooJcs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  i. 

utter  waste  and  frivolity  of  thought,  feeling,  and  purpose. 
The  trashy  literature  in  which  they  delight,  becomes  the 
cheap  and  vapid  representative  of  their  empty  minds, 
their  heartless  affections,  and  their  frivolous  characters. 
Besides  the  classes  already  named,  there  are  heads  of 
families  who  wish  to  form  libraries,  smaller  or  greater, 
which  may  instruct  and  amuse  both  themselves  and  their 
households,  but  who  often  choose  books  that  defeat  the 
very  aims  which  they  propose  to  accomplish,  and  react 
with  more  or  less  evil  upon  their  children.  What  books 
shall  they  buy  and  how  shall  they  judge  of  books  ?  Above 
all,  how  shall  they  train  themselves  and  others  to  the  best 
use  of  the  books  which  they  possess  and  read  ? 

We  would  in  these  papers  meet  this  variety  of  wants ; 
not  completely — to  attempt  which  would  be  idle — but  in 
part,  so  far  as  our  limits  will  allow.  To  give  a  complete 
•catalogue  of  the  best  books,  even  in  a  few  departments  of 
literature,  would  be  quite  impossible.  Such  a  catalogue 
would  be  dry  reading  at  best — as  dry  as  a  volume  of 
statistics,  or  a  report  of  the  census,  and  of  far  less  interest 
and  authority ;  for  no  man,  on  such  a  subject,  would 
blindly  yield  himself  to  the  direction  of  any  single  mind. 
A  partial  catalogue  with  a  critique  upon  each  author, 
would  be  little  better.  All  that  can  be  accomplished  is  to 
furnish^  thoughts  and  principles  which  may  awaken  the 
mind  to  wise  activity,  and  illustrate  them  by  examples 
from  books  and  authors.  We  would  show  that  the  books 
which  we  read  even  carelessly,  exert  an  influence  upon  us 
which  is  far  more  potent  than  we  are  apt  to  think,  and 
that  we  ought  to  select  our  books — above  all  our  favorite 
books — with  a  more  jealous  care  than  we  choose  our 
friends  and  intimates.  We  would  also  show  that  reading 
is  more  than  the  amusement  of  an  hour  and  tlie  gratifica- 
tion of  a  capricious  fancy :  that  it  is  an  employment  which 
may  leave  behind  the  most  powerful  impress  for  good,  or 


Chap.  L]  Introductory.  9 

which  may  reduce  the  soul  to  utter  barrenness  and  waste, 
and  even  scathe  it  as  with  devouring  fire.  We  would 
treat  .also  of  the  dijffcrent  kinds  of  books  and  the  methods 
of  reading  appropriate  to  each.  We  hope  also  to  give 
some  direction  to  the  taste,  and  this  without  the  dry  and 
formal  precepts  of  the  schools,  or  the  captious  and  positive 
dogmatism  of  the  professed  critic.  The  taste,  as  applied 
to  books  and  reading,  like  the  eye  for  color  and  form,  may 
be -educated, -or  rather  it  may  be  taught  how  to  educate 
itself.  We  would  aid  in  this  effort  at  self-culture ;  es- 
pecially would  we  indicate  what  are  the  methods  and 
ways  of  reading  imaginative  literature,  which  may  cause 
it  to  yield  pure  and  exquisite  delight,  to  add  power  to 
the  intellect,  and  to  impart  a  grace  and  finish  to  the  char- 
acter and  life. 

We  are  not  insensible  to  the  perils  which  are  incident 
to  our  attempt.  Not  a  few  have  undertaken  to  answer  the 
questions  which  we  have  proposed,  and  have  succeeded 
very  indifferently.  Many  a  young  man  has  asked  his  re- 
spected teacher  or  trusted  adviser  "  What  and  how  shall  I 
read?"  and  been  put  off  with  tiresome  platitudes  and 
solemn  commonplaces  for  an  answer,  coupled  with  the 
titles  of  half  a  -score  of  works,  which  every  person  is  sup- 
posed to  be  acquainted  with,  and  which  are  deemed  em- 
inently judicious  and  safe  reading.  The  manuals  usually 
known  as  "  Courses  of  Reading,"  though  useful  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  usually  lack  the  germinant  force  of  fundament- 
al principles  in  respect  to  the  object  of  reading  and  the 
estimate  of  authors.  The  list  of  books  which  Dr.  John- 
son recommended  to  a  clerical  friend,  is  a  good  example  of 
most  of  the  catalogues  which  are  hastily  prepared  even  by 
eminent  critics.  "  Universal  History  (ancient) — Rollings 
Ancient  History — Piiifendorfs  Introduction  to  History — 
Vertofs  History  of  the  Knights  of  3Ialta — Vertofs  Revolu- 
tions of  Portugal —  Vertois  Revolutions  of  Sweden — Carte's 


10  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  I. 

History  of  England — Present  State  of  England — Geogra- 
phical Grammar — Prideaux's  Connection — Nelson's  Fasts 
and  Festivals — Dutj/  of  3Ian — Gentleman's  Religion — Cla- 
rendon's History —  Watts'  Improvement  of  the  Mind —  Waits' 
Logic — Nature  Displayed — Lowth's  English  Grammar — 
Blachwall  on  the  Classics — Sherlock's  Sermons — Burnet's 
Life  of  Hale — Dupin's  History  of  the  Church — Shuck- 
ford's  Connections — Law's  Serious  Call — Walton's  Com- 
plete Angler — Sandys'  Travels — Sprat's  History  of  the 
Royal  Society — England's  Gazetteer — Goldsmith's  Roman 
History — some  Commentaries  on  the  Bible."  This  list 
seems  to  include  works  of  three  different  classes.  Books 
of  standard  authority  and  permanent  value ;  books  -which 
had  happened  to  please  Dr.  Johnson's  permanent  or  tem- 
porary humor ;  books  which  had  happened  to  occur  to 
his  mind  when  he  was  writing  out  the  catalogue  for  his 
young  friend.  The  most  exciting  and  satisfactory  com- 
ments on  books  and  reading  are  not  usually  found  in 
formal  treatises,  but  in  such  incidental  remarks  as  those 
which  are  recorded  by  Boswell  of  Dr.  Johnson,  or  are  met 
with  in  Montaigne's  rambling  and  free-spoken  essay  "  Of 
Books"  or  in  the  essay  of  Bacon  on  ''Studies,"  (in  Locke's 
Tlioughts  Concerning  Reading  and  Study,)  or  in  Charles 
Lamb's  "Detached  Thoughts  on  Books  and  Reading,"  or  in 
Hazlitt's  many  incisive  essays  and  Coleridge's  wonderfully 
stimulating  criticisms,  or  in  two  or  three  good  thoughts 
from  Carlyle's  address  at  Edinburgh  mis-named  "  On  the 
Choice  of  Books,"  or  the  essay  of  R.  W.  Emerson  on 
"Books"  in  the  volume  entitled  "Society  and  Soli- 
tude," which  is  characteristic  of  the  author,  even  to 
his  remarks  about "  Jesus  "  and  "the  Bibles  of  tlie  world." 
All  manuals  entitled  "Courses  of  Reading"  must  be 
exposed  to  the  objection  noticed  by  the  elder  D'Israeli, 
that  they  necessarily  fall  behind  the  times  the  mo- 
ment they  come  up  to  them.     A   course  of  reading  that 


Chap.  I.]  Introductory.  11 

should  be  complete  in  one  month  must  begin  to  be  defeo-  ^ 
tive  the  next.  ^ 

Courses  of  reading  from  an  elder  adviser  or  friend  to  a 
pupil  or  protege,  even  if  they  are  hastily  prepared,  serve  a 
good  purpose  as  pictures  of  the  times.     They  cast  more  or 
less  light  upon  the  culture  and  knowledge  which  prevailed 
when  they  were  written.     A  very  distinguished  clergyman 
of  New  England,  furnishes  the  following  list  of  books  for 
a   young  pastor  in   1792.     "  In  Divinity,  you  will  not 
wonder  if  I  recommend  President  Edwards'  writings  in 
general ;    Dr.    Bellamy's    and  Dr.    Hopkins' ;    President 
Davles'  Sermons;   Robert  Walker's  Sermons;  Howe's  do; 
Addison's  Evidences ;   Beattle's  Evidences  of   Christianity; 
Leiand's  View  of  Dclstlcal  Writers;  Berry  Street  Sermons ; — 
in  History  Frldeaux's  Connection ;  RolUn's  Ancient  His- 
tory ;    Goldsmith's  Roman  History ;   do.  Hlstoi'y  of  Eng- 
land, or  Rider's  History  of  England  which  is  more  prolix 
and  particular;  Robertson' s  History  of  North  America  ;  do. 
History  of  Charles  V;  Hutchinson's  History  of  llassachu- 
setts  ;  Ramsay's  History  of  the  War;  Guthrie's  and  Ilorse's 
Geography  ;  Josephus'  History  of  the  Jews  ; —  Watts  on  the 
Illnd ;    Loche    on   the   Human    Understanding; — Specta- 
tor;   Guardian;    Tattler;  Rambler;  Pamela;    Clarissa; 
Grandlson  ;   Telemachus ;  Don  Quixote;  Anderson's  Voy- 
age ;   Cook's  Voyages  ;   3Illton  ;    Young's  Night  Thoughts ; 
Vlceslmus  Knox's  Essays  ;  Do.   On  Education  ; — Buchan's 
Family  Physician ;    Tlssot    on    Health. — These    may  be 
sufficient — but  additions  may  be  easily  made.     The  great 
danger  will   be  of  getting  useless  and  hurtful  books,  es- 
pecially Novels   and   Romances   which  generally  corrupt, 
especially  young  minds ;  beside  the  loss  of  the  purchase 
money  and  the  time  spent  in  the  reading  of  them." 

Another  paper  of  a  later  date  was  prepared  by  a  clergy- 
man, of  some  reputation  for  literature,  for  a  young  lady, 
whose  mind  the  writer  sought  to  direct,  and,  as  is  very 


12  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap,  l 

likely,  whose  heart  and  hand  he  souglit  to  win.  It  is  as 
follows :  "  List  of  Books  for  a  young  lady's  Libraiy." 
"  Oann's  small  Bible  (with  marginal  references) ;  Home's 
-  I^araphrase  on  the  Psalms  ;  Mrs.  Hannah  Morels  Strictures 
on  Female  Education;  Mrs.  Chapone's  Letters  to  her 
Niece;  Grove  on  the  Sacrament;  Mason  on' Self- Know- 
ledge ;  Doddridge's  Rise  and  Progress,  etc.  ;  Newton  on  the 
Prophexiies  ;  Guide  to  Domestic  Happiness  and  the  Refuge  ; 
Cowper's  Works,  2  vols. :  Young's  Night  Thoughts  ;  Ele- 
gant Extracts  in  Poetry ;  Rasselas,  Prince  of  Abyssinia  ; 
The  Rambler ;  Thomson's  Seasons  ;  Dwight's  Conquest  of 
Canaan  ;  Washington's  Life  ;  Trumbull's  History  of  Con- 
necticut. This  list  of  books  might  be  enlarged,  and 
perhaps  upon  recollection  some  alteration  might  be  made, 
but  these  are  well  calculated  to  mend  the  heart,  to  direct 
the  imagination  and  thoughts  to  proper  objects,  and  to 
give  command  over  them  upon  good  principles.  To  read 
profitably  we  should  always  then  have  some  object  in 
view  more  than  merely  to  pass  away  time,  by  letting 
words  run  off  our  tongue  or  through  our  minds.  *  *  * 
Order  and  system  in  any  business,  and  certainly  in  cul- 
tivating the  mind,  is  really  necessary,  if  we  w^ould  be 
benefited  by  study.  It  is  by  having  a  few  books  well 
chosen  and  attentively  and  perseveringly  read,  that  we  fix 
in  our  mind  useful  principles.  Books  are  multiplied 
without  number,  and  it  becomes  perplexing  to  run  frera 
one  to  another,  and  none  are  well  understood  when  we 
read  in  this  manner.  The  Bible  should  always  stand  first 
in  our  esteem  and  be  read  first  daily.  It  affords  every 
species  of  reading, — history,  biography,  poetry,  etc., — and 
shows  the  heart  in  its  true  character." 

If  anything  would  discourage  us  from  prosecuting  the 
plan  of  writing  upon  Books  and  Reading,  it  would  be  the 
perusal  of  this  paper  of  well-meant  truisms  and  well-worn 
commonplaces.      It    does    not    follo.w,  however,  because 


Chap.  I]  Introductory.  13 

advice  upon  any  subject  is  especially  liable  to  degenerate 
into  meaningless  generalities,  that  advice  should  never  be 
given ;  nor,  because  it  is  comparatively  easy  to  discourse 
safely  with  uplifted  eye-brows  about  the  books  we  read 
and  the  companions  we  choose,  that  such  counsel  shoidd 
never  be  given  at  all.  The  much-needed  pilot-boat  must 
run  the  risk  of  being  itself  stranded  upon  dangerous  flats 
aud  beguiling  shallows,  if  it  would  preserve  the  vessel 
from  being  ingulfed  in  the  deeper  seas,  and  the  more  terri- 
ble breakers. 

There  are  not  a  few  readers  who  reject  all  guidance  and 
restraint — some  from  inclination,  and  some  from  a  the- 
ory that  counsel  and  selection  interfere  with  the  freedom  of 
individual  taste  and  the  spontaneity  of  individual  genius. 
Their  motto  in  general  is:  "of  all  the  sorts  of  vice  that 
prevail  advice  is  the  most  vexatious."  Sofer  as  reading  is 
concerned,  it  is,  "In  brief,  sir,  study  what  you  most  affect." 
One  person,  they  insist,  cannot  advise  for  another,  because 
one  cannot  put  himself  in  the  place  of  another.  "  Read 
what  speaks  to  your  heart  and  mind ;  let  your  own  feelings 
be  your  guide,  and  leave  critics  and  advisers  to  their  stupid 
analyses  and  narrow  or  prejudiced  judgments.  Read  that 
you  may  enjoy,  not  that  you  may  judge;  that  you  may 
gather  impulse  and  inspiration,  not  that  you  may  under- 
stand the  reasons  or  explore  the  sources  of  the  instruction 
and  enjoyment  which  you  unconsciously  derive  from  the 
books  in  which  you  most  delight."  There  is  truth  and 
force  in  this  position,  we  grant.  ^  No  man  can  read  with 
profit  that  which  he  cannot  learn  to  read  with  pleasure. 
If  I  do  not  myself  find  in  a  book  something  which  I  my- 
self am  looking  for,  or  am  ready  to  receive,  then  the  book 
is  no  book  for  me  whatever,  however  much  it  may  be  for 
another  man.  5  But  to  assert  that  one  cannot  help  another 
to  select  and  to  judge  of  books  is,  in  principle,  to  renounce 
all  instruction  and  dependence  on  those  who  are  older  and 


14  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  I. 

wiser  than  we.  To  be  consistent,  it  would  turn  ever}"-  man 
into  a  hermit  or  a  savage.  Such  a  position  is  sometimes 
silly  self-conceit;  sometimes  simple  pride;  sometimes  it  is 
a  voluptuous  animalism  that  would  find  in  literature  both 
stimulus  aud  excuse  for  sensual  indulgence.  The  wise  ad- 
viser  would  respect  the  tastes  of  each  reader,  and  would 
even  bid  liim  both  gratify  and  follow  them,  but  he  can  do 
something  to  aid  him  in  discerning  what  they  are,  and 
why,  and  how  far  they  are  to  be  allowed,  or,  if  need  be,  re- 
strained. Inspiration,  genius,  individual  tastes,  elective 
affinities,  do  not  necessarily  exclude  self-knowledge,  self- 
criticism,  or  self-control.  If  the  genius  of  a  man  lies  in 
the  development  of  the  individual  person  that  he  is,  his 
manhood  lies  in  finding  out  by  self-study  what  he  is  and 
what  he  may  become,  and  in  wisely  using  the  means  that 
are  fitted  to  form  and  perfect  his  individuality. 

Others  are  especially  jealous  of  the  use  of  any  moral 
standard  in  the  critical  judgments  of  books,  or  in  the  ad- 
vice which  is  furnished  concerning  methods  of  reading. 
Such  J)ersons  would  be  instinctively  repelled  from  the  pa- 
pers which  we  propose  to  write,  as  they  may  have  already 
inferred  that  we  intend  to  use  ethical  considerations  very 
freely,  and  perhaps  severely.  Against  this  they  will  in- 
wardly protest  in  thoughts  like  these: — AVhat  has  litera- 
ture to  do  with  morality?  Poetry  and  fiction,  essays  and 
the  drama,  history  and  biography — everything  in  short 
which  we  usually  call  literature — aim  to  present  man  and 
his  experiences  as  they  are,  and  not  as  they  ought  to  be. 
It  is  the  aim  and  end  of  all  these  to  describe,  and  not  to 
judge;  to  paint  to  the  life,  and  not  to  praise  or  condemn. 
The  reader,  not  the  \vriter,  may  judge  if  he  will  and  as  lie 
will.  But,  in  order  to  be  able  to  judge,  one  must  see  all 
sides  of  human  nature  and  human  life,  and  these  must  be 
portrayed  with  energy  and  truth  as  they  arc ;  he  must  sur- 
vey every  manifestation   of  the   human  soul,  the  evil  as 


Chap.  L]  Introductory.  15 

well  as  the  good,  the  passionate  as  truly  as  the  self-con- 
trolled. The  censor  who  brings  the  laws  of  duty  to  mea- 
sure and  regulate  our  reading,  who  judges  of  books  as  he 
judges  of  men;  interferes  with  tlic  freedom  that  gives  all 
its  life  to  literature  and  most  of  the  zest  and  value  to  read- 
ing. 

There  is  some  truth  in  all  this ;  or  rather,  there  is  a  truth 
which  is  perverted  into  this  caricature  and  error.  What 
the  truth  is,  and  how  far  it  may  be  carried  without  perver- 
sion and  danger,  we  will  show  as  we  proceed.  For  the 
"present,  \^•c  observe  that  no  mistake  can  be  more  serious 
than  to  suppose  that  the  law  of  conscience  and  the  rules  of 
duty  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  production  and  enjoy- 
ment of  literature,  as  many  modern  libertines  in  the  field 
of  imaginative  writing  would  have  us  believe.  Ethical 
ideals  are  produced  by  the  same  creative  imagination  which 
furnishes  the  poet  and  the  novelist  their  materials  and  their 
power.  Ethical  truth  is  but  another  name  for  imagination 
holding  "the  mirror  up  to  nature,"  i.  e.,  to  nature  in  man, 
or  human  nature.  Nature  in  man  invariably  prescribes 
ctliical  standards,  and  to  these  the  imagination  responds 
when  she  sets  forth  fiction  as  fact,  poetry  as  truth,  and  his- 
tory as  reality  in  its  highest  import  and  loftiest  significance. 
Not  only  is  this  true,  but  much  more  than  this  can  be 
shown  most  satisfactorily. 

If  tlie  lessons  of  these  facts  teach  anything,  they  teach 
that  literature  must  respect  ethical  truth  if  it  is  to  reach  its 
highest  achievements,  or  attain  that  place  in  the  admira- 
tion and  love  of  the  human  race  which  we  call  fame.  The 
literature  which  does  not  respect  ethical  truth,  ordinarily 
survives  as  literature  but  a  single  generation.  The  writer 
who  gives  himself  to  any  of  the  untruths  v/hich  are  known 
as  superficial,  sensual,  Satanic,  godless,  or  unchristian,  ordi- 
narily gains  for  himself  either  a  brief  notoriety  or  an  unen- 
viable immortality.     He  is  either  lost,  or  damned  to  fame. 


16  Boohs  arid  Reading.  [CnAP.  I. 

Of  all  the  shams  that  pass  current,  with  those  who  write  or 
with  those  who  read,  that  is  the  flimsiest  which  hopes  to 
outrage  or  cheat  the  human  conscience.  While,  then,  on 
the  one  hand  we  contend  for  a  somewhat  liberal  construc- 
tion of  the  ethical  and  religious  code  as  applied  to  the  pro- 
duction and  use  of  literary  works,  we  insist  that  certain 
rules  on  this  subject  can  be  easily  ascertained,  and  should 
be  uncompromisingly  enforced.  But  we  as  earnestly  affirm 
that  neither  ethical  truth,  nor  even  religious  earnestness, 
does  of  itself  qualify  a  writer  to  produce,  or  require  the 
reader  to  read  a  work  which  has  no  other  ground  on  which 
to  enforce  its  claims  to  attention  and  respect.  It  is  not 
enough  to  say  of  a  book,  that  it  is  good  or  goodish,  that  it 
is  Christian  or  safe,  in  order  to  justify  its  having  been 
written  or  printed.  There  prevails  not  a  little  cant  and 
hollowness,  if  not  gross  imposition  and  downright  dishon- 
esty, in  the  use  of  the  phrases  "  Christian  Uterature,"  and 
"  safe  or  wholesome  reading/'  as  we  may  have  occasion  to 
illustrate  at  some  length. 

We  wish  it  to  be  understood  that  we  do  not  write  for 
scholars  or  litteraieurs,  but  for  readers  of  English ;  not  ibr 
bibliographers  or  bibliomaniacs,  to  whom  literature  and 
reading  are  a  profession,  a  trade,  or  a  passion ;  but  for  those 
earnest  readers  to  whom  books  and  reading  are  instruction 
and  amusement,  rest  and  refreshment,  inspiration  and  re- 
laxation. Our  papers  will  be  familiar  and  free,  not  aifected 
or  constrained.  Usefulness  is  their  aim  and  object,  and 
this  aim  will  control  the  selection  and  illustration  of  the 
topics  which  may  suggest  themselves  as  we  proceed. 

But  enough  of  tliis  premising.  We  promise  nothing, 
and  yet  we  would  attempt  something.  What  we  propose, 
if  accomplished,  will  make  these  papers  useful  rather  than 
exciting.  They  will  be  the  minister  of  pleasure  in  tlioir 
remote   results,   rather   than    by   immediate    excitement. 


Chap.  I.]  Introductory.  17 

"While  then,  as  all  well-mannered  writers  do,  we  ask  the 
attention  of  the  reader,  we  trust  it  will  be  given  with  a 
clear  understanding  of  the  character  of  what  we  propose 
to  offer  him,  and  with  no  extravagant  expectations  con* 
cerning  its  interest  or  its  wortt. 


CHAPTEI?,  II. 

WHAT   IS  A   BOOK?    AND   WHAT   IS   IT  TO   HEAD? 

It  may  appear  very  much  like  trifling  to  ask  these 
questions.  Nothing  is  more  familiar  and  nothing  seems 
better  understood.  We  may,  however,  find  it  useful  to 
define,  somewhat  formally,  what  a  book  is,  a.rd  what  it  is 
to  read  a  book.  Children,  as  we  know,  are  very  generally 
taught  that  whatever  is  printed  is  to  be  regarded  with 
deference.  The  fiction  is  useful  if  not  necessary,  firet,  to 
prevent  them  from  tearing  books,  and  next,  to  train  them 
to  listen  to  the  wisdom  of  books  with  a  teachable  spirit. 
In  consequence,  they  learn  very  easily  to  esteem  all  books 
as  alike  oracles  of  wisdom  and  truth. 

Mr.  H.  Crabb  Robinson  tells  us  that  when  a  child  he 
was  corrected  for  mis-spelling  a  word  on  the  authority  of 
his  spelling-book.  On  being  told  that  the  word  was 
wrongly  printed  he  says  "I  was  quite  confounded.  I 
believed  as  firmly  in  the  infallibility  of  print  as  any  good 
Catholic  can  in  the  infallibility  of  his  Church.  I  knew 
that  naughty  boys  would  tell  stories,  but  how  a  book 
could  contain  a  falsehood  was  quite  incomprehensible." 
— {Diary,  Chajp.  ii.) 

Not  a  few  men  live  and  die  with  a  similar  impression, 
and  never  cease  to  esteem  a  book  as  in  some  way  endowed 
with  a  mysterious  authority  by  the  very  fact  that  it  is  a 
book.     This  opinion  is  well  expressed  in  the  lines 

"  'Tis  pleasant,  sure,  to  sco  one's  name  in  print ; 
A  book's  a  book,  although  there's  nothing  in't." 

Following  this  tradition  there  are  very  intelligent  men  who 
18 


Chap.  II.]     What  a  Booh  is,  and  what  if  is  to  read.  19 

would  never  think  of  spending  fifteen  minutes  in  listening 
to  stupidity  or  commonplace  from  a  man's  lips,  who  make 
it  their  duty  and  imagine  it  useful,  solemnly  to  read,  to 
weigh,  and  consider,  any  amount  of  dullness  which  an  ac- 
credited author  chooses  to  print,  especially  if  it  is  done  on 
expensive  white  paper  and  with  a  fair  and  wide  margin. 
Men  who  will  detect  and  spurn  a  lie,  if  it  is  spoken,  will 
read  lies  by  the  hundred,  if  they  are  only  printed ;  and 
when  they  read  two  books  which  contradict  each  other 
flatly  in  respect  to  statements  of  fact,  will  wonder  how  it 
can  be  possible  that  both  should  be  worthy  of  credit,  and 
yet  as  they  are  books  they  must  of  course  be  true,  though 
they  cannot  see  hoio.  Very  grave  and  Christian  citizens 
— the  stiff  asserters  of  law  and  order — will  read  arguments 
that  tend  to  the  destruction  of  the  family,  with  its  sacred 
confidence  and  endearments — which  would  overturn  every 
tribunal,  unlock  every  prison,  and  make  murder  and  arson 
as  common  as  a  change  of  the  wind,  and  admire  the  pro- 
foundness of  their  wisdom.  Nay — let  it  not  be  spoken 
above  a  whisper — modest  and  virtuous  ladies,  who  would 
blush  at  an  innocent  remark,  if  it  happens  to  be  unfortu- 
nate or  equivocal  in  its  language,  will  read  sentences,  nay, 
pages,  that  are  equivocal  neither  in  language  nor  in  senti- 
ment, and  pronounce  them  enchanting  and  delightful. 

Let  it  be  observed  and  remembered,  that  a  book  is  al- 
ways written  by  a  man,  and  that  it  is  never  by  any  magic 
or  mystery  any  better  than  its  author  makes  it  to  be. 
This  author  may  be  a  wise  man  or  a  fool.  He  may  be  an 
honest  man  or  a  knave.  He  may  be  a  man  of  the  best 
intentions,  but  slightly,  or  more  than  slightly,  elevated 
with  a  little  "  too  gude  a  conceit  o'  himsel'."  He  may 
have  something  to  say  which  it  is  worth  the  while  should 
be  said,  and  yet  not  know  how  to  say  it.  But  whatever 
he  is,  or  knows,  and  has  the  power  to  communicate,  that 
will  he  write  down  in  his  book,  whether  he  thereby  writea 


20  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  ir. 

himself  down  a  sage,  or  writes  himself  down  after  the 
earnest  desire  of  Justice  Dogberry. 

When  we  set  ourselves  to  read  a  book,  what  do  we  do  ? 
We  place  ourselves  in  communication  with  a  living  man. 
We  go  back  with  him  to  the  time  when  he  penned  the 
vokime.  We  think  over  the  thoughts  which  he  then 
thought,  we  sympathize  with  the  feelings  which  he  ex- 
perienced, we  behold  the  wondrous  creations  which  his 
eye,  "  in  fine  frenzy  rolling,"  saw  enter  his  door  and  live 
and  move  about  him — the  men  and  women,  or  the  spirits 
of  heaven  and  hell,  to  which  he  gave  being  in  his  mind 
then,  and  which  he  re-creates  in  our  minds  now. 

The  theme  may  be  God  and  man's  concerns  with  God  : 
and  we  sympathize,  it  may  be,  with  the  inspired  Psalmist, 
as  he  utters  the  language  of  bitter  repentance,  of  exulting 
hope,  of  unshaken  fortitude,  or  earnest  supplication ;  we 
follow  the  thoughts  of  the  eloquent  apostle,  who  discourses 
so  sublimely  of  the  loftiest  themes ;  or  we  listen,  in  the  atti- 
tude of  love  or  of  worship,  to  the  words  of  Him  who 
spake  as  never  man  spake.  Or  perhaps  Barrow  pours  out 
before  us  a  redundantly  flowing  stream  of  thoughts, 
weighty  for  sense  and  copious  in  diction ;  or  Baxter  speaks 
to  our  hearts  in  fiery  directness ;  or  Taylor  amazes  us  by 
his  mellifluent  speech  and  his  never-ending  imagery ;  or 
South  astonishes  us  by  his  wit,  while  he  instructs  us  with 
his  wisdom.  Or,  we  confer  with  Bacon,  who  drops  like 
j)earl8  those  pregnant  observations  that  come  home  to 
"men's  business  and  bosoms,"  or,  after  taking  us  by  a 
rapid  survey  over  what  ha<l  already  been  accomplished  in 
the  field  of  science,  leads  us  to  a  height  from  which  his 
prophetic  eye  can  discern  fields  yet  undiscovered.  Spenser 
conducts  us  by  devious  but  Ixjguiling  wanderings  through 
the  long  pilgrimage  of  "  Una  and  the  milk-white  lamb," 
till  the  Fairy  Queen  and  fairy  land  become  real  to  our 
thoughts  and  familiar  to  our  memory.     Shakspeare    lets 


CfiAP.  II.]     What  a  Book  is,  and  what  it  is  to  read.  21 

loose  upon  us  a  host  of  beings,  the  most  wonderful  that 
were  ever  created  by  a  human  fancy,  or  that  can  be  gazed 
upon  by  the  "  mind's  eye  "  of  the  re-creating  reader.  Mil- 
ton opens  before  us  the  gates  of  heaven,  and  we  are  daz- 
zled at  the  magnificence  of  the  scene,  overwhelmed  by  the 
splendid  array  of  the  angelic  host,  or  confounded  by  the 
glimpses  which  we  catch  of  the  infinite  glories  of  the  Un- 
created and  Eternal.     Or 

"  On  a  sudden  open  fly 
With  impetuous  recoil  and  jarring  sound, 
Th'  infernal  doors," 

and  the  archangel  ruined  stands  before  us,  with  his  com- 
peers— sublime  in  intellect,  degraded  by  sin,  scarred  and 
seared  by  suifering,  yet  proud  and  unsubdued  in  their 
relentless  wills.  Scott,  "the  magician  of  the  North," 
marshals  before  us,  with  breathless  haste,  those  marvellous 
creations  of  his  genius,  which  are  as  familiar  as  household 
words.  Dickens  and  Thackeray,  "  George  Eliot "  and 
Mrs.  Oliphant,  with  many  others,  send  us  almost  weekly, 
regular  installments  from  their  brain  and  bid  us  review 
with  them  the  creations  which  they  produce  for  our  plea- 
sure. The  journalist  or  reviewer  takes  us  into  his  closet, 
and  discourses  to  us  with  wisdom  or  wildness,  in  soberness 
or  extravagance,  of  the  interests  that  concern  the  common 
weal,  or  the  themes  which  are  uppermost  for  the  hour  or 
the  week. 

To  read  an  author  is,  however,  more  than  to  hold  com- 
munion with  a  mind  in  its  ordinary  state,  or  by  the  usual 
method  of  hearing  the  conversation  of  a  person,  even  in 
his  happiest  mood.  For  by  the  act  of  writing  the  mind  is 
ordinarily  raised  to  its  highest  energy  both  of  thought  and 
feeling.  It  condenses  as  it  were  and  intensifies  itself: 
whatever  is  good  into  what  is  doubly  good — whatever  is 
bad  into  what  is  doubly  bad.  It  is  deliberate.  It  does 
not  proceed  in  haste.     If  a  fact  is  to  be  sta^edj  it  may  be 


22 


Boolc^  and  Reading.  [Chap.ix. 


examined   with   care  and   its   truth   established.      If  an 
opinion  is  to  be  expressed,  it  may  be  looked  at  from  every 
Bide  and  in  all  its  relations.     What  is  spoken  cannot  be  re- 
called, but  what  is  writlen  can  be  revised.     The  mind  in 
its  calmer  mood  can  qualify  and  withdraw  what  it  penned 
in  fervid  haste.     New  thoughts  may  modify  its  first  con- 
clusions, now  energy  may  be  concentrated  into  some  sinewy 
epithet,  and  new  fervor  may  be  expressed  in  a  "  winged 
word." 
^    It    follows    from    this,  that  a  book  does  not   merely 
I  represent  its  author,  but  it  represents  the  best  part  of  him, 
—or,  it  may  be,  the  worst     It  gives  the  picture  of  his  in- 
ner self  in  forms  enlarged  and  ideally  improved.    The  colors 
are  more  intense  and  more  finely  contrasted  than  in  the  real- 
ity of  his  ordinary  experience.     Hence,  reading  a  man's  book 
is  often  worth  far  more  than  listening  to  his  conversation. 
Hence,  too,  a  good  book   Ls  of  more  value  to  the  world 
than  a  good  man — for  it  is  the  best  part  of  a  good  man — 
the  good  without  the  evil.     Thus  when  a  wise  man  dies, 
while  his  spirit  is  living  on  in  one  immortal  life,  he  may 
be  also  living  another  immortality  on  earth — occuj)ying 
perhaps  a  wider  sphere  than  when  he  was  in  the  body — 
liis  thoughts  quickening  the  thoughts  of  others,  as  if  he 
were    present    to   speak  them,  his  feelings  inspiring  the 
noblest  feelings  of  others,  and  his  principles  prompting  to 
worthy  deeds  after  his  own  last  action  is  done.     It  was  by 
more  than  a  figure  that  Milton  wrote,  in  his  Arcoparjiiicd  .- 
"  for  IxKjks  are  not  absolutely  dead  things,  but  do  contain 
a  progeny  of  life  in  them  as  active  as  that  soul  whose 
progeny  they  are  ;  nay,  they  do  preserve  as   in  a  vial,  the 
purest  efficacy  and  extraction  of  that  living   intellect  that 
bred  them."     "  As  good  almost  kill  a  man  as  kill  a  good 
book  ;  who  kills  a  man  kills  a  reasonal)le  creature,  Cod's 
image,  but   he   who  destroys  a  good  l)ook,  kills   reason 
itself,  kills  the  image  of  God  as  it  were  in  the  eye." 


Chap.  II.]      What  a  Book  is,  and  what  it  is  to  read.  23 

The  thought  will  doubtless  occur,  that  this  suggestion 
towards  answering  the  questions,  "  what  is  a  book,  and 
what  is  it  to  read  ?"  applies  to  certain  classes  of  books,  but 
not  to  all.  There  are  many  books,  it  may  be  said,  which 
might  as  well  have  been  written  by  an  automaton  as  a  man, 
— books  from  which  we  can  by  no  means  gather  what  kind 
of  a  man  produced  them — books  which  have  little  or  no 
flavor  of  the  personality  of  their  author.  We  grant  this 
of  a  few  books,  but  the  number  is  smaller  than  we  should 
at  first  suspect,  and  it  is  literally  true  of  no  book  what- 
ever, that  its  character  and  value  are  not  greatly  de- 
termined by  the  intellect  and  culture,  the  honor  and 
honesty,  of  the  man  Avho  made  it.  The  traces  of  person- 
ality are  also  oftener  to  be  discerned  than  we  imagine. 
Not  only  does  the  man  make  the  book  in  more  respects 
than  we  are  wont  to  believe,  but  he  can  be  known  and 
detected  in  his  book  and  through  his  book,  more  frequent- 
ly than  many  readers  notice. 

A  dictionary  seems  to  be  removed  the  farthest  from  any 
savor  or  aspect  of  human  personality ;  and  yet  in  any  co- 
pious dictionary  it  is  not  difficult  to  discover  the  feelings 
and  even  the  prejudices  of  its  author.  Those  of  Dr.  John- 
son are  sufficiently  manifest  in  respect  to  Excisemen,  Pen- 
sioners, and  his  neighbors  beyond  the  Tweed,  by  his  defini- 
tions of  Excise,  Pension,  and  Oats.  Excise  he  defines  as 
"  A  hateful  tax,  levied  on  commodities,  and  adjudged  not 
by  the  common  judges  of  property,  but  wretches  hired  by 
those  to  whom  excise  is  paid."  Pension,  he  says,  is  "An 
allowance  made  to  any  one  Avithout  an  equivalent.  In 
England  it  is  generally  understood  to  mean  pay  given  to  a 
state  hireling  for  treason  to  his  country."  Pensioner  is 
defined  to  be  "  A  slave  of  state  hired  by  stipend  to  obey 
his  master."  Oats  he  describes  as  "  A  grain  which  in 
England  is  generally  given  to  horses,  but  in  Scotland  sup- 
ports the  j)eople."     The  private  opinions  of  Noah  Web- 


24  Books  and  Reading.  [Cbap.  H 

ster  look  out  very  plainly  through  the  judicial  gravity 
with  which  he  lays  down  the  law  concerning  scores  of 
words ;  as  for  example,  when  he  defines  Dandy  thus  :  "  In 
modern  usage,  a  male  of  the  human  species  who  dresses 
himself  like  a  doll  and  who  carries  his  character  on  his 
back." 

Every  history  purports  to  be  an  impartial  recond  of 
facts,  and  a  faithful  transcript  of  the  great  truths  which 
may  be  inferred  from  them.  The  historian,  at  the  first 
thought,  might  be  "  set  down  "  as  nothing  more  nor  less 
than  an  impereonal  chronicler  of  actual  events  and  facts. 
And  yet  who  reads  a  history,  even  the  most  concise  or 
rigidly  impartial,  who  may  not  also  read  in  the  record  of 
his  facts  the  record  of  the  author's  partialities,  and  in  his 
philosophy  a  transcript  of  individual  prejudices  as  well  as 
of  universal  principles  ?  The  pithy  Tacitus,  by  a  pungent 
epithet  and  antithetic  phrase,  does  not  more  effectually 
damn  some  hero  in  crime  to  everlasting  fame,  than  he  im- 
presses you  with  a  distinct  and  abiding  image  of  his  own 
strong  and  fervid  character.  Gibbon  and  Plume,  Lingard 
and  Macaulay,  Bancroft  and  Hildreth,  Arnold  and 
Froude,  have  not  simply  written  out  the  story  of  the 
countries  which  have  been  their  themes,  but  have  also 
more  or  less  distinctly  recorded  an  abiding  memorial  of 
their  own  characters  and  principles,  if  indeed  they  have 
not  now  and  then  given  to  the  world  a  distinct  expression 
of  their  own  prejudices  and  passions. 

The  poet,  the  dramatist,  and  the  novelist  may  personate 
as  many  characters  a.s  tiiey  will,  and  put  into  the  mouths 
of  their  fictitious  personages  the  words  most  appropriate  to 
the  character  of  each — words  seemingly  very  far  removed 
from  their  own  sentiments  and  feelings ;  but  yet,  when  it 
chances  that  their  own  private  opinions  have  to  Ix;  spoken 
or  their  individual  feelings  expressed,  it  will  be  done  with 
an  energy  of  words,  an  intensity  of  expression,  which  betrays 


Chap.  II.]    What  a  Book  is,  and  what  it  is  to  read.  25 

them  as  the  author's  own.  Dante  and  Milton,  Goethe  and 
Schiller,  Byron  and  Bulwer,  introduce  upon  their  shifting 
stage  an  immense  variety  of  characters,  and  speak  or  sing 
through  each  of  them  the  thoughts  and  emotions  that 
belong  to  each.  Their  own  genius  lies  in  the  power  to 
forget  themselves  completely  in  their  characters,  or  rather 
to  transform  themselves  into  the  heroes  whom  they  per- 
sonate. But  now  and  then  occurs  a  sentence  which  is 
weighty  with  a  double  meaning,  because  the  author  speaks 
his  own  cherished  opinions  through  his  hero,  or  a  strain 
will  recur  so  often  and  in  a  character  so  peculiar,  that  we 
recognize  it  as  the  sad  refrain  of  the  poet's  own  sorrow. 
Herein  is  seen  the  man,  and  hereby  does  the  individual 
man  assert  his  right  over  the  impersonal  genius.  Scott  and 
Shakspeare  are  the  least  personal  and  subjective,  the  most 
completely  objective  and  dramatic  of  all  modern  writers. 
Scott  was  large-hearted  and  many-sided  enough  ordinarily 
to  lose  himself  in  his  characters.  But  now  and  then  the 
reader  can  detect  the  humane  Scotch  sheriff,  as  w^ell  as  the 
romantic  and  prejudiced  Tory,  in  characters  and  sayings 
in  which  neither  would  confess  himself  to  be  present. 
Shakspeare  is  rightly  called  the  "  myriad-minded :"  and  it 
may  be  hard  to  discern  the  man  Shakspeare  through  the 
countless  and  strange  variety  of  personages  into  which 
he  so  successfully  transforms  himself.  But  the  man  will 
speak  out  in  the  sonnets,  which  have  been  thought  by  many 
to  have  been  written  in  order  to  satisfy  even  Shakspeare's 
longing  at  times  to  write  in  his  own  character  and  to  give 
utterance  to  his  own  individuality.  There  are  serious  and 
solemn  passages  in  his  dramas  in  which  no  imitated  voice 
is  uttered :  in  which  it  is  no  masked  histrionist  who 
speaks,  but  Shakspeare^s  self  utters  sentiments  and  emo- 
tions that  he  could  not  repress.  It  is  almost  idle  to  ob- 
serve that  neither  Dickens  nor  Thackeray,  Trollope  nor 
George  Eliot,  can  always  hide  themselves  in  the  motley  of 


{ 


26  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  n. 

men  whom  their  fancy  has  created.  Coleridge  and  Southcy, 
Wordsworth  and  Tennyson,  usually  sing  their  own  songs, 
and  from  a  loving,  or,  it  may  be,  a  saddened  heart.  \i(i  may 
truly  utter  the  seeming  paradox,  that  while  it  is  the  proof 
and  triumph  of  genius  to  be  able  to  overcome  and  overrule 
the  individual  man,  yet  where  the  genius  is  not  rooted  in, 
and  does  not  grow  out  of  the  intense  affections  and  the 
earnest  character  of  the  writer's  own  individuality,  he 
shows  the  art  of  a  dexterous  histrionist  rather  than  the 
earnestness  of  a  great  nature. 

As  for  those  authors  who  write  to  amuse  the  public,  the 
perpetrators  of  humor  of  all  sorts,  and  the  producers  of 
every  variety  of  bagatelle  to  suit  the  reading-market,  it  is 
not  ea.sy  for  the  man  to  hide  his  individuality  behind  the 
mask  which  he  assumes,  however  grotesque  and  comical 
that  mask  may  be.  The  features  of  the  man  will  always 
shine  through  the  mask — if  indeed  there  be  a  man  be- 
neath it.  For  very  great  is  the  difference  whether  it  be  a 
clown  or  a  man  which  is  behind — whether  we  see,  through 
the  disguise,  the  look  half- vacant  and  half-villainous  of 
which  the  venal  and  frivolous  Bohemian  can  never  rid 
himself,  with  all  his  tact  and  art,  or  the  broad  swimming 
eyes  of  love,  with  which  Hood  always  looked  out  through 
his  fun,  or  the  sad  earnestness  into  which  Lamb  relaxed 
80  soon  as  he  had  stammerc^l  out  his  joke  or  his  pun. 

It  is  scarcely  needful  to  add  that  essayists  and  critics, 
the  authors  of  mond^  political  and  religious  tracts  and 
books,  are  supposed  of  course  to  write  their  own  0])inions, 
which,  though  they  be  also  the  opinions  of  large  masses  of 
men,  will  be  shaded  by  the  color  and  hue  of  the  minds 
from  which  they  come,  and  be  warmed  with  the  feelings 
which  glow  in  tlie  hearts  of  all  thoughtful  and  eloquent 
souls. 

Let  it  not  be  thought  for  a  moment,  that  the  as- 
sertions— that  a    book    is  written  by  a  man,,  and  is  just 


Chap.  II.]    WTicU  a  Book  is,  and  what  it  is  to  read.  27 

what  its  author  makes  it  to  be,  and  that  to  read  a  book  is 
to  converse  with  a  living  man — are  barren  truisms.  We 
believe  them  to  be  fertile  in  important  suggestions,  and 
that  if  held  fast  in  the  mind  they  will  serve  as  a  clue  to 
guide  us  safely  and  wisely  through  the  labyrinth  of  books 
— which  may  mislead  and  bewilder  as  well  as  amuse  and 
ennoble.  We  invite  the  reader's  attention  to  the  suggestions 
which  may  be  derived  from  them. 

These   thoughts  may  suggest  the   principles  which  we 

need  to  guide  us  as  we  judge  of  books  and  read  them — 

J  and  may  help  us  distinguish  the  books  which  are  books, 

^  from  those  which  are  only  "  things  in  books'  clothing,"  as 

well  as  teach  us  how  to  make  the  best  use  of  those  wliich 

are  books  indeed. 


CHAPTER  III. 

HOW  TO  READ — ATTENTION  IN  READING. 

Let  us  then  take  our  clue  in  hand  and  follow  it  out, 
feeling  our  way  along,  in  the  suggestions  and  applications 
to  which  it  will  naturally  conduct  us. 

It  is  thought  a  great  feat  for  a  cliild  to  learn  to  read. 
The  process  is  not  a  trivial  one  which  is  accomplished 
every  day,  and  is  going  on  in  our  nurseries  and  school- 
houses,  by  which  the  infant  learns  to  distinguish  letters, 
to  spell  them  into  words,  to  look  through  written  charac- 
ters, to  interpret  words  into  thouglits  and  feelings,  and  do 
all  these  so  readily  that  the  skill  seems  literally  to  have 
"  come  by  nature."  It  is  indeed  a  great  feat,  as  we  see 
plainly  when  a  full-grown  man  or  woman  attempts  it  for 
the  first  time,  and  as  we  mark  the  slow  and  painful  steps 
by  which  such  pei-sons  must  halt  and  stumble  for  years,  in 
order  to  master  the  mechanical  part  of  the  process.  It  is 
very  rightly  thouglit  to  be  a  most  important  step  that 
is  gained  when  cither  the  child  or  the  man  has  finished 
this  apprenticeship,  and  to  make  a  great  difference  with 
him  to  have  overcome  tlicse  obstacles.  But  why  is  it  so 
important?  What  makes  the  dificrence  so  great?  Who 
a.sks:  what  is  all  this  for,  and  how  may  a  man  best  use  the 
power  which  is  thus  gained?  It  is  not  enough  to  say  (hat 
it  enabl&s  a  person  to  transact  business,  to  read  his  own  ac- 
counts and  letters  from  -other  people,  to  know  what  is  go- 
ing on  at  New  York  or  Washington,  to  j)ore  over  newspa- 
pers, to  gape  over  a  few  tales  of  blood  and  murder,  or  now 
and  then  to  extract  a  thought  from  a  good  book  on  Sunday. 
If  this  were  all,  it  were  indeed  worth  all  the  cost,  as  the 
28 


Chap.  III.]     How  to  read: — Attention  in  Heading.  29 

experience  and  the  common  sense  of  the  world  shows.  The 
transactions  and  intercourse  of  civilized  life  depend  on  this 
acquisition ;  and  the  unconscious  discipline  of  civilized  man 
that  comes  from  the  process,  even  in  the  limited  and  care- 
less uses  to  which  it  is  applied,  reward  the  pains-taking  a 
thousand-fold. 

But  suppose  the  question  were  asked  more  distinctly  and 
more  frequently:  How  may  the  power  thus  attained  be 
used  to  the  best  advantage,  and  what  are  the  uses  to  which 
it  may  be  applied  ?  Shall  we  say  or  think  that  the  instru- 
ment is  too  common  to  admit  of  improvement?  Then 
would  one  method  of  plowing  be  as  good  as  another,  and 
one  plow  would  be  as  good  as' another;  when  all  the  world 
knows  that  from  good  plows  and  good  plowing — to  say 
nothing  of  the  best  looms  and  best  weaving — come  the 
wealth  and  luxury  and  civilization  of  millions  of  men. 
If  the  applications  to  Avhich  a  common  instrument  may  be 
turned  are  of  no  consequence  whatever,  then  are  potatoes 
as  good  as  wheat  because  both  are  products  of  the  plow, 
and  the  coarsest  serge  is  as  desirable  as  broadcloth  from 
Leeds  or  silk  from  Lyons. 

But  all  this  is  too  obvious  to  need  an  argument  or  illus- 
tration ;  yet  it  is  well  to  bestow  a  thought  on  truths  so 
simple,  for  sometimes  we  are  surprised  by  their  extensive 
reach  and  even  their  tremendous  import.  Surely  if  a  man 
should  form  and  use  principles  in  regard  to  any  subject, 
he  should  form  and  use  them  in  respect  to  what  and  how 
he  reads,  and  for  what  ends.  If  life  is  not  all  a  holiday  or 
a  day  dream,  then  reading  should  be  pursued  in  an  earnest 
and  reflecting  spirit.  For  he  that  opens  a  book  does  by 
this  very  act  begin  to  converse  with  a  man — good,  bad  or 
indiiferent  as  the  case  may  be — with  a  man  perhaps  in  his 
very  best  or  worst  phase  or  condition.  If  then  you  would 
scorn  to  take  lessons  or  receive  influences  from  an  ignora- 
mus, a  knave,  or  a  known  deceiver  and  seducer  of  tho 


30  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  m, 

good,  why  not  scorn  to  come  nearer  to  any  such  man  by 
reading  what  is  the  imago,  the  expression,  nay  perhaps  tlie 
essence  or  embodiment  of  himself?  If,  when  you  are  ad- 
mitted to  the  society  of  a  wise  or  amusing  man  who  gives 
instruction  or  entertainment  in  a  winning  and  graceful 
manner,  you  think  it  important  to  be  wakeful  in  his 
society  and  to  catch  and  weigh  every  word ;  why  should 
you  not  feel  the  same  necessity  when  he  speaks  to  you 
through  the  written  page  ?  Cind  yet  how  many  neglect  the 
whole  matter  of  what  books  they  or  their  children  read,  or 
suffer  it  to  take  its  chance,  for  evil  or  for  good !  Very 
good  persons  who  would  be  slow  to  provide  uuM-holesome 
or  poisonous  food,  or  to  associate  with  mean  or  dangerous 
men,  do  both  these  things  by  the  books  with  which  they 
and  their  families  come  into  close  and  frequent  contact. 
They  and  their  children  read  such  books  as  come  in  their 
■way,  or  are  talked  about,  or  are  cheap,  or  attractive.  Or,  if 
they  arc  careful  in  choosing  books,  they  have  little  care  as 
to  the  way  in  which  they  read  them.  This  is  not  as  it 
should  be.  It  may  involve  a  fearful  and  lasting  wrong/ 
If  a  man  has  but  little  time  to  read,  he  has  no  right  to 
allow  these  golden  hours  of  his  life  to  be  wasted  and  worse 
than  wasted.  If  he  reads  a  great  deal,  he  has  no  right  to 
allow  influences  which  are  silently  but  most  powerfully 
affecting  his  whole  character,  to  be  what  the  chance  or  the 
mood  of  the  hour  decides  them — to  bring  disease  or  health, 
life  or  death,  to  that  which  makes  him  a  man.  ^  These  in- 
fluences might  be  most  healthful  and  exhilarating ;  they 
might  do  nuich  to  make  him  a  better,  a  more  cheerful  and 
self-relying  man:  and  yet  his  time,  it  may  be,  is  dawdled 
away  in  reading  he  knows  not  what,  or  in  reading  a  good 
book  in  such  a  way  that  he  knows  not  what  he  has  read,  any 
more  than  one  can  tell  what  he  has  said  after  being  jaded 
by  an  evening  party  or  wasted  by  a  round  of  morning- 
calls. 


Chap.  III.]     How  to  read: — Attention  in  Reading.  31 


C 


Reading  ought  not  to  be  aimless,  even  though  its  aim 
be  to  while  away  an  hour.  \  And  reading  when  allov/ed 
for  the  merest  relaxation  is  not  exempt  from  the  guidance 
of  principles  and,  if  need  be,  tho  restraints  of  conscience. 
As  to  habits  of  reading,  and  the  attitude  with  which  we 
are  accustomed  to  present  ourselves  before  oiu*  book  and 
its  .author,  these  are  of  so  great  importance  that  our 
success  or  failure  in  the  use  of  books  is  determined  by 
them.  AYe  are  not  so  stupid  or  pedantic  as  to  desire  to 
form  the  reading  of  two  persons  after  the  same  model,  or 
to  .lay  down  formal  rules,  for  the  mechanical  adjustment 
and  direction  of  the  mental  processes.  But  we  earnestly 
desire  to  awaken  each  person  to  the  dignity  of  forming  his 
own  rules  for  reading ;  and  of  making  his  converse  with 
books  to  contribute  to  and  to  grow  from  a  character  that  is 
individual  because  it  is  formed  by  reflection. 

The  first  rule  which  we  prescribe  is:  read  with  attention. 
This  is  the  rule  that  takes  precedence  of  all  others.  It 
stands  instead  of  a  score  of  minor  directions.  Indeed  it 
comprehends  them  all,  and  is  the  golden  rule.  To  gain 
the  power  and  habit  of  attention,  is  the  great  difficulty  to 
be  overcome  by  young  readers  when  they  begin.  The  one 
reason  Avhy  reading  is  so  dull  to  multitudes  of  active  and 
eager  minds  is  that  they  have  not  acquired  the  habit  of  at- 
tending to  books.  The  eye  may  be  fastened  upon  the  page, 
and  the  mind  may  follow  the  lines,  and  yet  the  mind  not  be 
half  awake  to  the  thoughts  of  the  author,  or  the  best  half  of 
its  energies  may  be  abroad  on  some  wandering  errand.  The 
one  evil  that  comes  from  omnivorous  and  indiscriminate 
reading  is  that  the,  attention  is  wearied  and  overborne  by 
the  multitude  of  the  objects  that  pass  before  it;  that  the 
miserable  habit  is  formed  and  strengthened  of  seeming  to 
follow  the  author  when  he  is  half  comprehended,  of 
vacantly  gazing  upon  the  page  that  serves  just  to  occupy 


82  Books  and  Beading.  [Chap,  ul 

and  excite  the  fancy  without  leaving  distinct  and  lasting 
impressions. 

It  was  said  of  Edmund  Burke,  who  was  a  great  reader 
and  a  great  tliinker  also,  that  he  read  every  book  as  if  he^ 
were  never  to  see  it  a  second  time,  and  thus  made  it  his 
own,  a  possession  for  life.  Were  his  example  imitated, 
much  time  would  be  saved  that  is  spent  in  recalling  things 
half  remembered,  and  in  taking  up  the  stitches  of  lost 
thoughts.  A  greater  loss  than  that  of  time  would  be 
avoided :  the  loss  of  the  dignity  and  power  which  are  pos- 
sessed by  him  who  keeps  his  mind  tense,  active  and  wake- 
ful. It  is  very  common  to  give  the  rule  thus,  "  Whatever 
is  worth  reading  at  all,  is  worth  reading  well."  If  by 
"  well "  is  intended  with  the  utmost  stretch  of  attention,  it 
^  not  literally  true,  for  there  are  books  which  serve  for 
pastime  and  amusement,  books  which  can  be  run  through 
when  we  are  more  or  less  fagged  or  ill, and  cannot  and 
ought  not  to  put  forth  our  utmost  energies  of  body  and 
mind.  Then  there  are  books  which  we  may  look  througli, 
as  a  merchant  runs  over  the  advertisements  in  a  newspaper 
— taking  up  the  thoughts  that  interest  and  concern  us 
especially,  as  the  magnet  takes  and  holds  the  iron  filings 
that  are  scattered  through  a  handful  of  sand.  But  if  every 
part  of  a  book  be  equally  worthy  our  regard,  as  the 
writings  of  Arnold,  Grote,  Merivale,  Gibl)on,  Burke,  Web- 
ster, Milton,  Shakspeare,  or  Scott,  then  should  the  en- 
tire energy  of  attention  be  aroused  during  tlie  time  of 
reading,  j  The  page  should  be  read  as  if  it  were  never  to 
be  seen  a  second  time;  the  mental  eye  should  be  fixed  as  if 
there  were  no  otlier  object  to  tliink  of;  the  memory  should 
grasp  the  facts,  (/.  c.)  the  dates,  incidents,  etc.,  like  a  vise; 
the  impressions  should  be  distinctly  and  sharply  received ; 
the  feelings  should  glow  intensely  at  all  that  is  worthy  and 
burn  with  indignation  at  everything  which  is  bad.  For 
the  want  of  this  habit,  thoroughly  matured  and  made  per- 


Chap.  III.]     Sow  to  read: — Attention  in  Reading.  33 

manent,  time  is  wasted,  negligent  habits  are  formed,  the 
powers  of  the  mind  are  systematically  weakened  by  the 
very  exercise  which  should  give  them  strength,  and  read- 
ing, which  ought  to  arouse  and  strengthen  the  intellect, 
produces,  with  many,  no  deeper  and  more  abiding  impres- 
sion than  the  shifting  pictures  of  a  magic  lantern,  or  the 
fantastic  groupings  of  the  kaleidoscope — first  a  bewildering 
show,  then  confusion  and  vacancy. 
^  There  is  now-a-days  a  special  danger  from  this  inatten- 
tion. So  many  books  are  written,  which  are  good  enough  in 
their  way,  and  yet  are  the  food  for  easy,  i.  e.  lazy,  reading, 
and  they  are  so  cheap  withal ;  so  much  excitement  prevails 
in  respect  to  them,  that  an  active  mind  is  in  danger  of 
knowing  many  things  superficially  and  nothing  well,  of 
being  driven  through  one  volume  after  another  with  ^uch 
breathless  haste  as  to  receive  few  clear  impressions  and  no 
lasting  influences.  J 

Passive  reading  is  the  evil  habit  against  which  most 
readers  need  to  be  guarded,  and  to  overcome  which,  when 
formed,  requires  the  most  manful  and  persevering  efforts. 
The  habit  is  the  natural  result  of  a  profusion  of  books  and 
the  indolence  of  our  natures  and  our  times,  which  desires 
to  receive  thoughts, — or  more  exactly  pictures,  many  of 
which  are  thin,  hazy,  and  evanescent — rather  than  vigor- 
ously to  react  against  them  by  an  eifort  that  thinks  them 
over  and  makes  them  one's  own.  It  is  the  intellectual  dys- 
pepsia which  is  induced  by  a  plethora  of  intellectuaj  diet,  if 
that  may  be  called  intellectual  Avhich  is  the  weak  dilution 
of  thought.  Almost  better  not  read  at  all,  than  to  read  in 
such  a  way.  Certainly  it  is  better  to  be  forced  to  steal 
a  half-hour  from  sleep,  after  a  day  of  bodily  toil, 
or  to  depend  for  your  reading  on  an  hour  at  a  mid- 
day nooning  when  your  fellow-laborers  are  asleep,  if  you 
but  fix  your  whole  mind  on  what  you  read,  than  to  dawdle 
away  weeks  and  months  in  turning  over  the  leaves  of 
3 


34  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  III. 

hundreds  of  volumes  in  search  for  somecliing  new,  which 
is  feebly  conceived,  as  lazily  dismissed,  and  as  stupidly 
forgotten.  Better  read  one  history,  one  poem,  or  one 
novel,  well,  if  it  takes  a  year  to  despatch  it  at  stolen  inter- 
vals of  time,  than  lazily  to  consume  twelve  hours  of  the 
day  in  a  process  which  wastes  the  time,  and,  what  ls  worse, 
wastes  the  intellect,  the  fancy,  and  the  living  soul. 

But  how  is  the  attention  to  be  controlled?  How  can 
this  miserable  passiveness  be  prevented  or  overcome  ? 
Rules  in  great  number  have  been  prescribed.  All  sorts  of 
directions  have  been  devised.  An  ingenious  author  has 
advised  that  each  sentence  should  be  read  tliroujjh  at  a 
single  breath ;  the  breath  being  retained  until  the  sentence 
is  finished.  Some  advise  to  read  with  the  pen  in  hand ; 
others  to  make  a  formal  analysis  of  every  volume  ;  others 
to  repeat  to  ourselves,  or  to  recite  to  others,  the  substance 
of  each  page  and  chapter.  These,  and  other  devices,  are 
all  of  service  in  their  way,  and  some  of  them  we  will  con- 
sider in  their  apjiropriate  place.  But  their  chief  value 
turns  upon  this,  that  they  induce  an  interest  or  require  an 
interest,  cither  direct  or  indirect,  in  the  subject-matter 
which  is  .read.  Whatever  awakens  the  interest  will  be 
certain  to  fix  and  hold  the  attention.  The  hired  lad  in  the 
country  who  steals  an  hour  from  sleep  or  rest,  that  he  may 
get  on  a  few  pages  in  the  odd  volume  of  Plutarch  or 
Rollin,  which,  having  fallen  in  his  way,  has  begun  to  un- 
fold before  his  astonislicd  gaze  the  till  then  unknown 
history  of  the  ancient  world;  the  errand-boy  of  the  city, 
who  stands  trembling  at  the  book-stall,  lest  the  surly  pro- 
prietor should  <^ut  short  his  borrowed  j)leasure  from  the 
page  which  he  devours ;  these  need  no  artificial  devices  to 
teach  them  to  hold  the  mind  to  the  book,  or  to  retain  its 
contents.  The  great  secret  of  their  attention  is  to  be  found 
in  the  fresh  interest  with  which  they  lay  hold  of  the 
thoughts    of   the  pictured  page,   and   this  remains  ever 


Chap.  III.]        Hoio  to  rcocl: — Attention  in  Reading.  35 

the  great  secret  of  the  habit  of  successful  reading  even  to 
the  mind  that  has  been  disciplined  to  the  most  amazing 
feats  of  application.  There  arc  no  arts  of  attention,  no  arts 
of  memory,  which  can  be  compared  with  this  natural  and 
certain  condition  of  success. 

Daniel  Webster  was  one  of  the  most  earnest  and  in-  1/ 
telligent  of  readers  all  his  life  long.  His  favorite  authors 
were  read  and  re-read  with  a  passionate  fondness.  His 
critical  conversations  upon  the  standard  poets  and  essay- 
ists and  orators  of  the  English  tongue  are  still  remembered 
and  quoted  by  those  who  were  present  to  hear  when  the 
mood  and  opportunity  of  discourse  were  upon  him.  In  one 
of  the  last  evenino!;s  of  his  life  he  beo-uiled  the  Aveariness  of 
his  attendants  by  reciting  a  poem  from  Cowper.  How  he 
came  to  be  so  successful  and  so  intelligent  a  reader  is  ex- 
jjlained  in  his  autobiography.  "Whatever  he  read,  he  read 
so    often  and   so  earnestly  that  he  learned  to   repeat   it. 

"  We  had  so  few  books,"  he  says,  "  that  to  read  them 
once  or  twice  was  nothing  ;  we  thought  they  were  all  to  be 
got  by  heart."  A  small  circulating  library  had  been  es- 
tablished in  the  neighborhood  by  his  father  and  other  per- 
sons, and  among  the  books  which  he  obtained  from  it  was 
the  Spectator.  "  I  could  not  understand  why  it  was  ne- 
cessary that  the  author  of  the  Spectator  should  take 
such  great  pains  to  prove  that  Chevy  Chase  was  a  good 
story  ;  that  was  the  last  thing  I  doubted."  He  tells  us,  "  In 
those  boyish  days  there  were  two  things  which  I  did  dear- 
ly love,  viz :  reading  and  playing — passions  which  did  not 
cease  to  struggle  when  boyhood  w^as  over." 

The  man  or  boy  who  reads  with  attention  thus  quickened 
cannot  read  amiss  if  what  he  reads  is  worth  perusing.  Of 
his  habits  when  a  student  he  says  :  "  Many  other  students 
read  more  than  I  did  and  knew  more  than  I  did.  But  so 
much  as  I  read  I  made  my  own.  When  a  half  hour  or  an 
hour  at  most  had  elapsed,  I  closed  ^y  book,  and  thought  on 


36  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  in. 

what  I  had  read.  If  there  was  anything  peculiarly  inter- 
esting or  striking  in  the  passage,  I  endeavored  to  recall  it 
and  lay  it  up  in  my  memory,  and  commonly  could  effect 
my  object." 

Sir  Edward  Sugden  explained  to  Sir  Thomas  Powell 
Buxton  the  secret  of  his  professional  success  in  the  following  I 
words:  "I  resolved  when  beginning  to  read  law,  to  make  ' 
everything  I  acquired  perfectly  my  own,  and  never  to  go 
to  a  second  thing  till  I  had  entirely  accomplished  the  first. 
Many  of  my  competitors  read  as  much  in  a  day  as  I  read 
in  a  week,  but  at  the  end  of  the  twelve  months  my  know- 
ledge was  as  fresh  as  on  the  day  it  was  acquired,  while 
theirs  had  glided  away  from  their  recollection."  {Mem.  of 
Sir  T.  -f.  Buxton,  ch.  xxiv.) 

He  who  would  read  with  attention  must  learn  to  be 
interested  in  what  he  reads.  He  must  feel  wants  or  learn 
to  create  wants  which  must  be  supplied.  If  it  be  history 
that  he  would  read  with  attention,  he  must  feel  deficiencies 
that  will  not  let  him  rest  till  they  arc  supplied ;  he  must 
be  moved  by  a  desire  that  will  command  its  object.  Is  it 
poetry  or  fiction  ?  He  must  be  excited  by  a  restless  appe- 
tite that  longs  to  be  amused  with  new  pictures,  or  diverted 
by  humorous  scenes,  or  stirred  by  lofty  ideals,  or  charmed 
by  poetic  melody,  and  that  grows  by  what  it  feeds  on. 
And  the  man  must  master,  and  not  be  mastered  by,  his  in- 
creasing stock  of  knowledge  and  his  treasured  products  of 
the  imagination.  He  must  exercise  great  and  still  greater 
energy  in  judging  and  applying  the  acquisitions  he  has 
made,  making  them  accompany  his  musings,  feed  his 
memory,  animate  his  principles,  and  guide  his  life. 


CHAPTER  ly. 

HOW  TO   READ  WITH   INTEREST  AND   EFFECT. 

We  have  seen  that  a  book  is  the  creation  of  a  living 
man,  and  should  be  regarded  and  judged  somewhat  as  a 
man  himself  is  tried  and  estimated.  A  few  books  are 
indeed  almost  impersonal,  and  might  have  been  written  by 
one  man  as  readily  as  by  another.  These  are  to  be  judged 
chiefly  by  their  value^  i.  e.,  by  what  they  contain.  But 
most  books  express  more  or  less  of  the  personality  of  their 
authors;  and  in  reading  them,  we  come  in  contact  with 
living  men.  Good  books,  besides  the  value  of  what  they 
contain  and  impart,  have  a  positive  worth  in  their  effect  on 
the  i^rinciples,  feelings  and  character. 

If  this  is  true,  then  in  reading  v,'e  are  properly  said  to 
come  into  communication  with  a  human  being,  who  will 
either  instruct  and  elevate,  or  mislead  and  degrade  us. 
From  these  fundamental  conceptions  of  Books  and  Beading, 
we  have  begun  to  derive  our  rules  for  the  selection  of  the 
books  which  we  read,  and  for  our  own  behaviour  in  using 
them.  We  have  also  seen  that,  for  success  in  reading,  we 
must  read  with  attention,  and  to  read  with  attention, 
we  must  read  with  an  awakened  and  sustained  interest. 
Though  this  interest  when  awakened  must  be  regulated  by 
the  rules  of  prudence  and  duty,  yet  it  often  needs  to  be 
enkindled  and  sustained,  if  we  are  to  read  with  attention 
and  profit.  It  becomes  then  a  question  of  prime  concern 
how  we  can  so  arouse,  sustain  and  direct  our  interest  in  the 
books  which  we  read  as  to  make  our  reading  most  eifective 
for  good.  In  answer  tc;  this  somewhat  comprehensive  in- 
quiry, "we  reply: 

37 


38  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap,  i v. 

] .  If  we  are  at  a  loss  what  to  read,  or  if  we  can  thiuk 
of  nothing  which  we  desire  especially  to  read,  it  is  well  to 
ask  ourselves  what  we  care  most  to  learn  or  to  think  o^. 
No  questions  are  more  frequently  pressed  than  these: 
"What  shall  T  read?  What  shall  I  read  next?  With  what 
books  shall  I  begin  a  course  of  reading?  What  do  you 
think  will  interest  me?"  Sometimes  a  person  asks  these 
questions  cf  himself.  More  frequently  he  addresses  them 
to  another.  The  best  answers  which  can  be  given  to  them 
are  suggested  by  other  questions  like  these :  "  What  are 
you  most  interested  to  know?  In  what  particulars  does 
your  ignorance  most  disturb  or  annoy  you?  With  what 
class  of  facts  and  thoughts,  principles  or  emotions  would 
it  please  you  best  to  be  conversant?"  If  a  person  can 
answer  these  questions  with  any  satisfaction  to  himself,  he 
is  in  the  way  of  knowing  what  books  he  ought  to  read  first. 
For  if  he  cannot  without  assistance  find  the  book  which  he 
ought  first  to  lay  hold  of,  he  can  be  more  easily  directed 
by  another,  when  his  adviser  knows  what  he  cares  most  to 
know  or  what  excites  his  keenest  appetite. 

The  great  difficulty  with  the  majority  of  readers  is,  that 
their  sense  is,  of  any  wants  which  books  can  supply,  inde- 
finite, or  their  desire  to  supply  these  wants  is  feeble.  Orj 
if  they  are  aware  of  their  deficiencies  in  the  general,  they 
have  neither  the  courage  nor  the  patience  to  know  them 
in  the  detail,  and  manfully  to  set  about  the  work  of 
removing  them.  To  many  persons  the  wants  which  books 
alone  can  supply  are  themselves  either  created  or  brought 
to  light  by  the  use  of  books.  Many  a  man  needs  first  to 
read  and  to  read  with  interest,  in  order  to  have  awakened 
in  his  soul  a  thirst  for  books  and  a  taste  for  reading. 
There  are  however  not  a  few  who  through  a  sense  of 
ignorance,  or  shame  when  brought  in  contact  with  those 
better  read  than  themselves,  or  tlrrough  some  other  lucky 
though  perhaps  rude  shock  to  their  self-conceit  and  self- 


Chap.  IV.]    How  to  read  with  Interest  and  Effect.  39 

content,  are  suddenly  fired  with  a  desire  for  knowledge 
from  books.  Of  history  they  begin  to  have  some  inkling, 
and  feel  the  first  desire  to  learn  the  story  of  their  own 
township,  their  own  family,  their  own  nation  or  their  own 
race.  Of  eloquence  they  have  some  idea,  and  they  seek  to 
be  excited  by  written  oratory.  Poetry  may  have  moved 
their  ears  with  its  rhythmic  melody  or  charmed  their  souls 
with  its  wizard  imagery.  The  drama  or  the  novel  may 
have  startled  and  enchanted  them  by  its  pictured  pages. 
Or  perhaps  the  person  who  asks,  "What  shall  I  read?"  or 
"With  what  shall  I  begin?"  may  have  read  and  studied  for 
years  in  a  mechanical  routine,  and  with  a  listless  spirit; 
with  scarcely  an  independent  thought,  with  no  plans  of 
self-improvement,  and  few  aspirations  for  self-culture.  To 
air  these  classes  the  advice  is  full  of  meaning:  "Read  what 
v/ill  satisfy  your  wants  and  appease  your  desires,  and  you 
will  comply  with  the  first  condition  to  reading  with  interest 
and  profit."  Hunger  and  thirst  are  better  than  manifold 
appliances  and  directions,  in  respect  to  other  than  the 
bodily  wants,  towards  a  good  appetite  and  a  healthy 
digestion.  If  a  man  has  any  self-knowledge  or  any  power 
of  self-direction,  he  is  surely  competent  to  ask  himself, 
what  is  the  subject  or  subjects,  in  respect  to  which"  he 
stands  most  in  need  of  knowledge  or  excitement  from 
books.  If  he  can  answer  this  question  he  has  gone  very 
far  towards  answering  the  question,  "What  book  or  books 
can  I  read  with  satisfaction  and  profit?" 

2.  It  follows  by  a  necessary  inference  that  every  man 
should  aim  first  of  all  to  read  and  master  all  the  books 
which  relate  directly  or  indirectly  to  his  profession  or  busi- 
ness in  life.  If  a  man  is  alive  to  any  subject  whatever,  it 
is  to  his  chosen  occupation  in  life,  and  to  whatever  promises 
its  ea«er  working  or  more  successful  issue.  If  he  dislikes 
his  business,  if  he  frets  at  and  fights  it,  then  God  only  can 
help  him.     On  such  a  man  human  counsel  and  human  aid 


40  Books  and  Reading,  [Chap.  iv. 

must  be  thrown  away  ;  much  more  must  books  and  reading, 
if  they  cannot  bring  him  to  acquiesce  in  his  business  or  to 
change  it.  But  if  a  man  has  something  to  do  day  by  day 
in  which  he  strives  after  the  skill  which  leads  to  success, 
and  if  he  can  learn  anything  about  it  from  books,  he  can- 
not but  read  such  books  as  will  instruct  him,  with  an  excited 
and  prolonged  interest.  No  novelist  is  held  to  the 
charmed  page  of  fiction,  no  rhapsodist  reads  and  re-reads 
his  favorite  poet,  with  the  keen  and  excited  attention  with 
which  a  man  thoroughly  aroused  by  some  difficulty  in  his 
occupation  or  his  circumstances,  resorts  to  the  treatise  or 
the  encyclopaedia,  the  journal  or  the  magazine,  which 
promises  to  answer  the  question  which  he  is  anxiously 
pondering.  Let  a  farmer  have  brooded  over  the  unac- 
countable loss  of  his  wheat  or  potato  crop,  or  have  anx- 
iously inquired  what  will  restore  the  blight  which  is  begin- 
ning to  attack  his  favorite  peach  or  pear  tree,  and  he  de- 
vours the  printed  pages  that  prescribe  a  remedy  or  promise 
relief.  If  a  mechanic  is  at  fault  in  his  work,  and  finds  his 
machinery  fails  to  do  the  service  for  Avhich  it  is  designed, 
he  feels  no  lack  of  interest  and  suffers  under  no  fliilure  of 
attention  while  he  is  consulting  the  books  which  promise 
to  instruct  him.  Let  either  learn  that  by  extensive  read- 
ing he  can  gain  an  insight  into  the  secret  of  certain  and 
progressive  success,  and  he  will  read  widely  in  relation  to 
his  business  with  an  ever-increasing  and  intensified  enthu- 
siasm. The  madness  of  the  so-called  book-farmers  and 
inventive  enthusiasts,  illustrates  the  truth  which  we  assert, 
tiiat  if  a  man  would  learn  to  read  with  interest  and  atten- 
tion, he  should  first  of  all  read  much  in  respect  to  his  call- 
ins  in  life.  If  he  is  a  farmer,  he  should  read  books  of 
agriculture ;  if  a  mechanic,  books  on  machinery ;  if  r 
banker,  books  on  banking  and  finance:  whatever  be  his 
calling,  he  should  make  it  the  one  subject  upon  which  he 
will  read,  if  he  reads  upon  nothing  else.     In  this  way  he 


Cbap.  IV.]       How  to  read  with  Interest  and  Effect.        41 

will  elevate  his  calling,  from  being  a  slavish  and  enslaving 
drudgery,  into  a  rational  discipline,  not  only  for  immediate 
profit  but  for  manly  cultivation.  He  will  not  only  feed 
and  cherish  his  body,  and  enlarge  his  comforts  and  luxu- 
ries by  his  better  instructed  toil,  but  he  will  discipline  his 
intellect  and  elevate  his  soul  by  the  thinking  and  reason- 
ing which  his  reading  will  require.  He  will  waken  into 
life  that  within  himself  which  is  higher  than  his  occupation 
or  profession,  and  that  is  his  thinking  and  feeling  self. 
He  will  find  in  himself  that  which  is  more  than  the  farmer, 
the  trader,  or  the  mechanic,  and  that  is  the  manhood  that 
he  has  and  which  he  is  bound  to  think  of  and  care  for. 
The  wants  and  desires,  the  hopes  and  the  aspirations  which 
pertain"  to  the  man  will  be  gradually  awakened,  and  will 
connect  him  with  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  other  men  as 
these  are  expressed  in  books,  till  it  may  be  that  books  shall 
become  one  of  the  necessaries  of  his  life,  and  reading,  in- 
stead of  being  a  listless  and  constrained  employment,  shall 
be  his  chosen  occupation,  his  best  society,  his  most  delight- 
ful amusement,  and  perhaps  his  sweetest  solace  and  com- 
fort in  dark  and  bitter  hours. 

3.  In  reading,  we  do  well  to  propose  to  ourselves  defi- 
nite ends  and  purposes.  The  more  distinctly  we  are  aware 
of  our  own  wants  and  desires  in  reading,  the  more  definite 
and  permanent  will  be  our  acquisitions.  Hence  it  is  a 
good  rule  to  ask  ourselves  frequently,  "  Why  am  I  reading 
this  book,  essay  or  poem ;  or  why  am  I  reading  it  at  the 
present  time  rather  than  any  other  ? "  It  may  often  be  a 
satisfying  answer,  that  it  is  convenient;  that  the  book 
happens  to  be  at  hand  ;  or  that  we  read  to  pass  away  the 
time.  Such  reasons  are  often  very  good,  but  they  ought 
not  always  to  satisfy  us.  Yet  the  very  habit  of  proposing 
these  questions,  however  they  may  be  answered,  will  in- 
volve the  calling  of  ourselves  to  account  for  our  reading, 
and  the  consideration  of  it  in  the  light  of  wisdom  and 


< 


42  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  iv. 

duty.  The  distinct  consciousness  of  some  object  at  present 
before  us,  imparts  a  manifold  greater  interest  to  tlie  con- 
tents of  any  volume.  It  imparts  to  the  reader  an  appro- 
priative  power,  a  force  of  affinity,  by  which  he  insen- 
sibly and  unconsciously  attracts  to  himself  all  that  has  a 
near  or  even  a  remote  relation  to  the  end  for  which  he 
reads.  Any  one  is  conscious  of  this  who  reads  a  story  with 
the  purpose  of  repeating  it  to  an  absent  friend ;  or  an  essay 
or  a  report  with  the  design  of  using  its  facts  or  arguments 
in  a  debate  ;  or  a  poem  with  the  design  of  reviving  its  im- 
agery, and  reciting  its  finest  passages.  Indeed  one  never 
learns  to  read  effectively  until  he  learns  to  read  in  such  a 
spirit — not  always  indeed  for  a  definite  end,  yet  always 
with  a  mind  attent  to  appropriate  and  retain  and  turn  to 
the  uses  of  culture,  if  not  to  a  more  direct  application.  The 
private  history  of  every  self-educated  man  from  Franklin 
onwards  attests  that  they  all  were  uniformly  not  only  earn- 
est but  select  in  their  reading,  and  that  they  selected  their 
books  with  distinct  reference  to  the  purposes  for  which  they 
used  them.  Indeed  the  reason  why  self-trained  men  so 
ol'ten  surpass  men  who  are  trained  by  others  in  the  effec- 
tiveness and  success  of  their  reading,  is  that  they  know 
for  what  they  read  and  study,  and  have  definite  aims  and 
wishes  in  all  their  dealings  with  books.  The  omnivo- 
rous and  indi.scriminate  reader  who  is  at  the  same  time  a 
listless  and  passive  reader,  however  ardent  is  his  curi- 
jOsity,  can  never  be  a  reader  of  the  most  effective  sort. 

4.  Another  good  rule  is  suggeste<l  by  the  foregoing. 
Always  have  some  solid  reading  in  hand,  i.  e.  some  work  or 
author  which  we  carry  forward  from  one  day  to  anotiier, 
or  one  hour  of  leisure  to  the  next,  with  persistence  till  we 
have  finished  whatever  we  have  undertaken.  Tiiere  are 
many  great  and  successful  readers  who  do  not  observe  this 
rule,  but  it  is  a  good  rule  notwithstanding.  The  writei 
once  called  upon  one  of  the  most  extensive  and  persevering 


Chap.  IV.]       How  to  read  with  Interest  and  Effect.  43 

of  modern  travelers  at  an  early  hour  of  the  day  to  attend 
him  upon  a  walk  to  a  distant  village.  It  was  after  break- 
fast, and  though  he  had  but  few  minutes,  at  command  he 
was  sitting  with  book  in  hand — a  book  of  history,  which 
he  was  perusing  day  after  day.  He  remarked :  "  This  has 
been  my  habit  for  years  in  all  my  wanderings.  It  is  the 
one  habit  which  gives  solidity  to  my  intellectual  activities 
and  imparts  tone  to  my  life.  It  is  only  in  this  way  that  I 
can  overcome  and  counteract  the  tendency  to  the  dissipa- 
tion of  ray  powers  and  the  distraction  of  my  attention,  as 
strange  persons  and  strange  scenes  present  themselves  from 
day  to  day."  To  the  rule  already  given — read  with  a  de- 
finite aim — we  could  add  the  rule — make  your  aims  to  be 
definite  by  continuously  holding  them  rigidly  to  a  single 
book  at  all  times,  except  when  relaxation  requires  you  to 
cease  to  work  and  to  live  for  amusement  and  play.  Always 
have  at  least  one  iron  in  the  fire,  and  kindle  the  fire  at  least 
once  every  day. 

5.  It  is  implied  in  the  preceding,  that  we  should  read 
upon  definite  subjects,  and  with  a  certain  method  and 
proportion  in  the  choice  of  our  books.  If  we  have  a  sin- 
gle object  to  accomplish  in "  our  reading  for  the  present, 
that  object  will  of  necessity  direct  the  choice  of  what  we 
read,  and  we  shall  arrange  our  reading  with  reference  to 
this  single  end.  This  will  be  a  nucleus  around  which  our 
reading  will  for  the  moment  naturally  gather  and  arrange 
itself.  If  several  subjects  seem  to  us  equally  important 
and  interesting,  we  should  dispose  of  them  in  order,  and 
give  to  each  for  the  time  our  chief  and  perhaps  our  exclu- 
sive attention.  That  thi.s  is  wise  is  so  obvious  as  not  to  re- 
quire illustration.  "One  thing  at  a  time,"  is  an  accepted  con- 
dition for  all  efficient  activity,  whether  it  is  employed  upon 
things  or  thouglits,  upon  men  or  books.  If  five  or  ten  sepa- 
rate topics  have  equal  claim  upon  our  interest  and  attention, 
we  shall  do  to  each  the  amplest  justice,  if  we  make  each 


44  Books  and  Heading.  [Chaf  IV. 

in  its  turn  the  central  subject  of  our  reading.  Tliere  is  little 
dangei'  of  weariness  or  monotony  from  the  workings  of 
such  a  rule.  Most  single  topics  admit  or  require  a  consid- 
erable variety  of  books,  each  different  from  the  other  and 
each  supplementing  the  other.  Hence  it  is  one  of  the  best 
of  practices  in  prosecuting  a  course  of  reading,  to  read 
every  author  who  can  cast  any  light  upon  the  subject 
which  we  have  in  hand.  For  example  if  we  are  reading 
the  history  of  the  Great  Rebellion  in  England,  we  should 
read  if  we  can,  not  a  single  author  only,  as  Clarendon, 
but  a  half-dozen  or  a  half-score,  each  of  whom  writes  from 
his  own  point  of  view,  supplies  what  another  omits,  or  cor- 
rects what  he  under  or  overstates.  But,  besides  the  formal 
histories  of  the  period,  there  are  the  various  novels,  the 
scenes  and  characters  of  which  are  placed  in  those  times, 
such  as  Scott's  Woodstock ;  there  are  also-  diaries,  such  as 
those  by  Evelyn,  Pepys  and  Burton ;  and  there  are  me- 
moirs, such  as  those  )f  Col.  Hutchinson,  while  memoirs  and 
diaries  are  imitated  in  scores  of  fictions.  There  are  poems, 
such  as  those  of  Andrew  Marvel,,  Milton  and  Dryden. 
There  are  also  shoals  of  political  tracts  and  pamphlets,  of 
hand-bills  and  caricatures.  We  name  these  various  descrip- 
tions of  works  and  classes  of  reading,  not  because  we  sup- 
pose all  of  them  are  accessible  to  those  readers  who  live  at 
a  distance  from  large  public  libraries,  or  because  we  would 
advise  every  one  who  may  have  access  to  such  libraries,  to 
read  all  these  books  and  classes  of  books  as  a  matter  of 
course,  but  because  we  would  illustrate  how  great  is  the  va- 
riety of  books  and  reading  matter  that  are  grouped  around 
a  single  topic  and  are  embraced  within  a  single  period. 
Every  person  must  judge  for  himself  how  long  a  time  he 
can  bestow  upon  any  single  subject,  or  how  many  and 
various  are  the  books  in  respect  to  it  which  it  is  wise  to 
read ;  but  of  this  every  one  may  be  assured,  that  it  is  far 
easier,  far  more  agreeable  and  far  more  economical  of  time 


Chap.  IV.]       How  to  read  with  Interest  and  Effect.         45 

and  energy,  to  concentrate  the  attention  upon  a  single 
subject  at  a  time  than  to  extend  it  to  half  a  score,  and 
that  six  books  read  in  succession  or  together  upon  a  single 
topic,  are  far  more  interesting  and  profitable  than  twice  as 
many  which  treat  of  topics  remotely  related.  A  lady  well 
known  to  the  writer,  of  the  least  possible  scholarly  preten- 
sions or  literary  notoriety,  spent  fifteen  months  of  leisure 
snatched  by  fragments  from  onerous  family  cares  and  bril- 
liant social  engagements,  in  reading  the  history  of  Greece  as 
written  by  a  great  variety  of  authors  and  as  illustrated  by 
many  accessories  of  literature  and  art.  Nor  should  it  be 
argued  that  such  rules  as  these  or  the  habits  which  they 
enjoin  are  suitable  for  scholars  only  or  for  people  Avho  have 
much  leisure  for  reading.  It  should  rather  be  urged,  that 
those  who-  can  read  the  fewest  books  and  who  have  at 
command  the  scantiest  time,  should  aim  to  read  with  the 
greatest  concentration  and  method ;  should  occupy  all  of 
their  divided  energy  with  single  centres  of  interest,  and 
husband  the  few  hours  which  they  can  command,  in 
reading  whatever  converges  to  a  definite  because  to  a 
single  impression. 

6.  Special  efforts  should  be  made  to  retain  what  is 
gathered  from  reading,  if  any  such  efforts  ai:e  required. 
Some  persons  read  with  an  interest  so  wakeful  and  respon- 
sive, and  an  attention  so  fixed  and  energetic  as  to  need  no 
appliances  and  no  efforts  in  order  to  retain  what  they  read. 
They  look  upon  a  page  and  it  is  imprinted  upon  the  mem- 
ory. They  follow  the  thoughts  and  trace  the  words  and 
understand  the  sentences  of  their  author  and  these  remain 
with  them  as  permanent  possessions.  Images,  descriptions, 
eloquent  passages,  well  sounding  and  rhythmic  lines  in 
poetry  or  prose,  can  all  be  spontaneously  and  accurately 
reproduced ;  or  if  words  and  illustrations  are  forgotten  and 
lost,  principles,  truths  and  impressions  will  remain  and 
cannot  be  effaced.     Every  book  which  such  persons  read 


46  Books  and  Heading.  [Chap,  iv. 

enters  into  the  structure  of  their  being — it  is  taken  up  and 
assimilated  into  the  very  substance  of  their  living  selves. 
Every  paragraph  in  a  newspaper  with  every  fact  which  it 
records  or  truth  which  it  illustrates,  is  turned  to  some 
permanent  account  and  remains  as  a  lasting  acquisition. 

But  there  are  others  who  read  only  to  lose  and  to  forget. 
Facts  and  truths,  words. and  thoughts  are  alike  evanescent. 
We  shall  not  attempt  to  explain  here  the  nature  of  these 
differences.  We  are  concerned  only  to  devise  the  remedy : 
we  insist  that  those  v/ho  labor  under  these  difficulties 
should  use  special  appliances  to  avoid  or  overcome  them. 
But  that  upon  which  we  insist  most  of  all,  is  that  what  we 
read  we  should  seek  to  make  our  own,  only  in  the  manner 
and  after  the  measure  of  which  we  are  capable.  Each  reader 
should  follow  the  natural  bent  and  aptitudes  of  his  own 
individual  nature.  If  we  have  not  a  good  verbal  memory, 
it  is  almost  in  vain  that  we  seek  to  remember  choice  phrases 
and  sentences,  happy  turns  of  expression,  admirable  bits  of 
eloquent  speech,  or  striking  stanzas  and  lines  of  inspiring  or 
moving  poetry.  We  may  read  them  again  and  again,  we 
may  admire  them  with  increasing  fervor,  we  may  return 
to  them  with  an  ever  augmented  interest,  but  we  shall  make 
little  progress  in  remembering  them  so  as  to  be  able  to 
recite  them.  If  we  have  a  feeble  capacity  for  the  retention 
of  dates  and  facts  as  such,  unless  they  interest  our  feelings 
or  illustrate  principles,  the  utmost  pains-taking  will  do 
little  to  help  us  to  retain  facts  when  isolated  or  uninterest- 
ing, or  numbers  when  they  signify  nothing  but  so  many 
figures.  We  do  not  advise  a  man  laboring  under  these 
inaptitudes  to  fight  against  nature  or  to  fall  into  a  querulous, 
discouraged  or  fretful  qtiarrel  with  himself,  because,  as  he 
says,  he  cannot  remember  what  he  reads.  Nor  when  we 
enjoin  upon  him  to  use  special  efforts  to  remember,  do  we 
intend  that  he  shall  be  more  interested  in  his  efforts  to 
remember  than  he  is  interested  in  what  he  is  to  remember. 


Chap.  IV.]     How  to  read  with  Interest  and  Effect.  47 

We  advise  just  the  opposite.  But  we  contend  that  when 
a  man  reads  he  should  put  himself  into  the  most  intimate 
intercourse  with  his  author,  so  that  all  his  energies  of  ap- 
prehension, judgment  and  feeling  may  be  occupied  with 
and  aroused  by  what  his  author  furnishes,  whatever  it  may 
be.  If  repetition  or  review  will  aid  him  in  this,  as  it  of- 
ten will,  let  him  not  disdain  or  neglect  frequent  reviews. 
If  the  use  of  the  pen  in  brief  or  full  notes,  in  catch-words 
or  other  symbols  will  aid  him,  let  him  not  shrink  from  the 
drudgery  of  the  pen  and  the  common-place  book.  If  he  is 
aided  to  discern  and  retain  the  logical  connections  of  an 
argument  or  a  discourse  by  drawing  them  out  in  a  complete 
skeleton  or  analysis,  let  him  prosecute  the  dissection  with- 
out flinching.  If  a  re-survey  of  the  parts  will  give  him  a 
comprehensive  view  of  the  method  of  the  whole  let  him 
complete  his  analyses  with  the  utmost  care  and  arrange 
their  products  in  a  new  and  symmetrical  order.  But 
there  is  no  charm  or  efficacy  in  such  mechanism  by  itself. 
It  is  only  valuable  as  a  means  to  an  end,  and  that  end  is 
to  quicken  the  intellectual  energies  by  arousing  and  holding 
the  attention.  It  is  by  awakening  and  energizing  the 
reason — by  concentrating  and  arousing  the  feelings  that  it 
can  serve  any  very  useful  purpose.  To  remember  what 
we  read  we  must  make  it  our  own :  we  must  think  with 
the  author,  rethinking  his  thoughts,  following  his  facts, 
assenting  to  or  rejecting  his  reasonings,  and  entering  into 
the  very  spirit  of  his  emotions  and  purposes. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  RELATIONS  OF  THE  READER  TO  HIS  AUTHOR. 

The  considerations  presented  already,  as  well  as  the  fun- 
damental conceptions  of  books  and  reading  with  which  we 
set  off  in  our  search  of  rules  and  methods,  enforce  upon  us 
the  truth  that  effective  reading  depends  most  of  all  on  the 
relations  in  which  the  reader  finds  himself,  or  into  which  he 
can  bring  himself,  with  respect  to  his  author.  If  these  re- 
lations are  those  of  incongruity  or  of  repellency,  they  will  be 
more  or  less  fatal  to  all  profitable  reading.  The  fault  may 
be  in  the  reader,  or  the  fault  may  be  in  the  author,  or  it 
may  lie  partly  M'ith  the  one  and  partly  with  the  other,  but 
if  the  fault  exists,  it  will  go  far  to  defeat  the  best  results 
which  might  otherwise  follow.  Accordingly,  our  interest  in. 
and  our  attention  to  what  we  tead,  and  therefore  our  suc- 
cess in  reading,  depend  very  largely  on  the  authors  whom 
we  read.  A  book  which  is  very  suitable  for  one  person 
may  for  this  reason  be  entirely  unfitted  for  another.  The 
same  book  which  is  suitable  at  one  time,  or  at  a  certain 
age,  or  with  a  certain  degree  of  development  or  culture, 
may  be  entirely  unsuitable  to  the  same  person  in  another 
mood,  at  another  age,  and  after  greater  progress  and  cul- 
ture. Thus  the  consideration  of  the  manner  in  which  we 
should  read,  in  a  certain  sense  depends  u})on  toTiat  we  read. 
The  discussion  of  how  we  may  rearl  with  effect,  dejiends 
largely  upon  what  we  rend,  and  involves  the  consideration 
of  the  prin(nples  and  rules  by  which  we  should  select  our 
authors.     Upon  this  topic  we  observe: 

1.  That  in  order  to  read  with  interest  and  attention  we 

48 


Chap.  V.]       The  Rclotlom  of  the  Reader  to  his  Author.       49 

should  choose  an  author  from  whom  we  can  gain  some- 
thing. We  do  not  say  from  whom  we  can  learn  something, 
for  we  do  not  hold  that  it  is  the  duty  of  all  authors  to 
teach  something  in  the  way  of  fact  or  argument  in  order  to 
be  useful  or  interesting.  Many  books  serve  to  amuse  and 
impress, as  well  as  to  inform  and  convince.  Those  authors 
are  as  useful  who  enforce  and  inspire,  as  those  who  en- 
lighten and  instruct.  The  novel  that  leaves  us  with  a  glow 
of  contentment  and  thankfulness,  that  inspires  us  with  a 
warm  resolve  to  struggle  with  an  unequal  lot  or  to  be  con- 
tented and  cheerful  under  adverse  fortune,  that  confirms 
our  faith  in  goodness  and  our  trust  in  God,  may  be  quite 
as  useful  as  the  treatise  which  enforces  some  new  principle 
in  finance,  the  history  which  clears  up  some  disputed  ques- 
tion of  fact,  or  the  argument  which  sets  forever  at  rest  some 
dispute  upon  a  point  of  public  policy,  or  even  the  sermon 
which  proves  or  enforces  some  theological  truth.  A  tale 
that  fills  an  invalid  with  cheerful  thoughts  or  whiles  away 
a  weary  hour  with  pleasant  pictures,  is  as  useful  as  the 
most  formal  demonstration  of  a  questioned  proposition.  A 
poem  that  elevates  the  soul,  excites  tlie  imagination,  kin- 
dles the  emotions,  and  rouses  the  aspirations  may  be  worth 
more  to  myriads  of  readers  than  scores  of  so-called  books 
of  fact  and  argument,  or  even  of  books  of  exhortation  and 
edification. 

But  with  this  enlarged  conception  of  the  kind  and 
variety  of  profit  which  we  may  expect  from  an  author,  we 
are  more  completely  justified  in  inquiring  of  every  author 
who  solicits  our  attention :  whether  he  has  anything  to 
give  us,  i.  e.,  whether  ive  shall  gain  anything  by  reading 
his  book.  If  he  can  neither  teach  us  anything  which  we 
do  not  know,  nor  convince  us  of  anything  of  which  we  are 
in  doubt,  nor  strengthen  our  faith  in  what  we  already 
receive,  nor  set  old  truths  in  new  lights,  nor  warm  our 
feelings  into  noble  earnestness,  nor  entertain  us  with  whole- 
4 


50  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  V. 

some  jokes  nor  excite  us  to  honest  laughter,  then  he  is  not 
the  man  and  his  is-  not  the  book  for  us.  Whatever  he 
and  his  book  may  be  to  others,  they  have  no  claims  upon 
us,  and  we  should  be  quite  ready  to  sliow  both  the  door. 
Stupid  commonplace,  pretentious  twaddle,  weak  sentimen- 
talism,  feeble  reasoning,  confused  narrative,  silly  novels, 
ambitious  poetry,  are  not  to  be  read  except  on  compulsion,  as 
in  a  desperately  rainy  day,  in  a  lonesome  cabin,  when  a 
last  year's  almanac  or  a  thrice-conned  newspaper  have 
yielded  up  their  last  returns  of  nutriment  and  .succulence. 
But  in  such  a  case  the  storm  must  forbid  a  walk,  and 
there  should  be  not  even  an  intelligent  spaniel  or  a  playful 
kitten  to  furnish  society.  A  stupid  or  senseless  book  is 
thrice  as  stupifying  as  a  stupid  man.  A  vain,  ie:norant 
and  ambitious  piece  of  writing  has  none  of  those  redeeming 
features  which  a  humane  and  charitable  spirit  will  .find 
in  a  vain,  ignorant  and  ambitious  person.  If  then  I  am 
to  read  anything  with  interest,  I  must  be  introduced  to  an 
author  who  can  do  me  some  good.  If  his  book  can  teach 
or  convince  or  ennoble  or  amuse  me,  then  it  may  be 
reasonably  expected  that  I  should  be  aroused  to  an  interested 
and  wakeful  attention.  The  conditio  sine  qud  non  of 
earnest  interest  in  reading  is  to  find  something  which  is 
worth  the  reading.  Said  a  youngster  to  a  humorous  old 
New  England  preacher,  "I  observe  that  your  parishioners 
listen  very  attentively  to  your  preaching."  "I  uniformly 
aim  to  give  them  something  which  is  worth  attending  to," 
was  the  curt  reply.  "The  man  whom  I  like  to  converse 
with  above  all  others,"  said  Daniel  Webster,  "is  the  man 
who  can  teach  me  something."  If  every  reader  would 
estimate,  select  and  use  his  books  by  tin's  rule,  there  would 
be  far  less  listless,  lazy  and  profitless  reading  than  there  is. 
What  would  befall  large  portions  of  many  of  our  news- 
papers, and  what  use  could  possibly  be  applied  to  much  of 


Chap.  V.]       The  Relations  of  the  Reader  to  his  Author.       61 

the  time  which  many  of  their   readers   dawdle  away  over 
them,  it  is  no  coDcern  of  ours  to  determine. 

2.  It  follows  that  we  should  read  with  a  certain  degree 
of  deference  and  docility  to  our  author.  If  we  do  an 
author  the  honor  to  confer  with  him  through  his  book, 
for  the  supposed  pleasure  or  advantage  which  his  society 
will  aiford  us,  we  ought  to  observe  toward  him  the  courte- 
sies of  polite  intercourse.  By  the  act  of  reading  him  we 
profess  a  respect  for  the  thoughts  and  feelings  which  he 
expresses  through  the  printed  page,  and  we  ought  to 
maintain  toward  him  that  attitude  of  deference  and  courtesy 
which  consistency  requires.  If  we  do  not  weigh  his  argu- 
ments with  candor  and  accept  his  facts  with  confidence,  if 
we  do  not  yield  our  feelings  to  his  control  by  that  pliant 
sympathy  which  is  requisite  for  the  enjoyment  of  his  en- 
thusiasm, his  wit  or  his  eloquence;  if  instead  of  this  def- 
erential temper  we  are  captious,  -critical  -and  hard  to  be 
convinced  or  moved,  we  had  better  dismiss  the  author  from 
our  presence  by  closing  his  book.  It  is  far  more  civil  to 
our  author  and  more  profitable  to  ourselves  to  dispose  of 
him  with  a  courteous  bow  than  it  is  to  detain  him  with  a 
discontented  air  and  a  captious  temper.  It  were  better  to 
be  content  with  our  own  thinking  than  to  treat  the  thoughts 
of  another  so  unjustly  and  ill-naturedly.  We  had  better 
even  act  after  the  rule  quoted  by  Charles  Lamb,  "To  mind 
the  inside  of  a  book  is  to  entertain  one's  self  with  the  forced 
product  of  another  man's  brain.  Now  I  think  a  man  of 
quality  and  breeding  may  be  much  amused  with  the  natural 
sprouts  of  his  own."  As  a  general  rule  we  had  better  not 
read  an  author  from  M-hom  we  cannot  derive  some  im- 
portant benefit  and  with  whom  we  cannot  sympathize  at  least 
in  some  particulars.  There  may  be  special  reasons  for  break- 
ing this  rule.  Those  who  read  for  investigation,  for  crit- 
icism or  for  refutation,  are  often  obliged  to  deviate  from  it. 
But  such  exceptions  justify  and  enforce  the  rule  in  a  gen- 


52  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap  .v. 

eral  way  for  all  those  who  read  chiefly  to  enricli  their 
minds,  to  confirm  their  faith,  to  enlarge  their  knowledge 
and  to  elevate  and  kindle  their  aspirations.  Mrs.  Brown- 
ing has  said,  and  doubtless  from  her  own  experience, 

"ATe  get  no  good 
By  being  ungenerous  even  to  a  book 
And  calculating  profits,  so  much  help 
By  so  much  reading.     It  is  rather  when 
Wo  gloriously  forget  ourselves  and  plunge 
Soul -forward,  headlong,  into  a  book's  profound. 
Impassioned  for  its  beauty  and  salt  of  trutb — 
'  Tis  then  we  get  the  right  good  from  a  book." 

3.  We  add  another  rule,  to  correct  any  excess  or  abuse 
in  the  application  of  the  foregoing,  viz. :  We  should  read 
with  an  independent  judgment  and  a  critical  spirit.  It 
does  not  follow,  because  we  should  treat  an  author  with 
confidence  and  respect,  that  we  arc  to  accept  all  his  opinions 
and  may  not  revise  his  conclusions  and  arguments  by  our 
own.  Indeed  we  shall  best  evince  our  respect  for  liis 
thoughts  by  subjecting  them  to  our  own  revision.  But  it 
by  no  means  follows  because  we  re-judge  his  argument  and 
opinions  that  we  are  not  instructed  by  both.  jNIilton,  in 
the  Paradise  Regained,  in  connection  with  some  important 
truth,  puts  a  singular  argument  into  tlie  moutli  of  the 
Great  Teacher. 

"Who  reads 
Incessantly,  and  to  his  reading  brings  not 
A  spirit  and  judgment  equal  or  superior, 
{And  what  he  hriiiga  irhftt  need  he  elueichere  seek  7) 
Uncertain  and  unsettled  still  remains. 
Deep  versed  in  books,  and  shilllow  in  himself." 

The  parenthetical  line  would  imply  that  the  capacity  to 
judge  and  revise  the  opinions  of  an  author  renders  a  man 
independent  of  aid  and  incapable  of  instruction  from  and 
of  his  fellow-men.  To  a  similar  effect  a  saying  of  Charles 
Butler  is  quoted  by  one  of  Milton's  editors,  viz.,  "Xo  man 


CiiAi'.  v.]     TJie  Belations  of  the  Header  to  his  Autlwr.        53 

•is  the  wiser  for  his  books  until  he  is  above  them."  If  this 
were  ti-ue,  the  wisdom  of  another  could  not  become  our 
own  except  by  the  suspension  or  displacement  of  our  in- 
dividual activity  of  thought;  instruction  by  books  would 
be  an  assertion  of  simple  dogmatism;  and  confidence  and 
docility  would  only  be  other  names  for  subservience  and 
credulity.  Still  whatever  is  our  deference  for  an  author 
we  cannot  exalt  his  intellect  into  the  place  of  our  own ;  we 
cannot  receive  his  facts  without  evidence,  nor  his  arguments 
except  so  far  as  they  produce  conviction;  nor  should  we 
profess  to  admire  his  eloquence,  to  love  his  poetry,  or  be 
delighted  with  his  novels,  because  he  is  reputed  to  be  a 
great  genius  or  a  splendid  writer.  Here  we  observe  that : 
4.  Favorite  authors  often  exert  an  excessive  and  occa- 
sionally a  blinding  and  stupifying  influence  over  their  ad- 
mirers. We  speak  of  such  in  connection  with  the  duty 
of  reserving  to  ourselves  the  rights  of  independent  judg- 
ment and  criticism,  because  it  is  rare  that  one  human 
being  ever  gains  a  more  complete  possession  of  another 
than  does  a  favorite  author  over  his  devoted  readers. 
The  most  coniiding  friend  and  enraptured  lover  are  rarely 
more  completely  taken  captive  in  thought  and  feeling, 
than  are  the  readers  of  some  fascinating  writer,  who  is  for 
the  time  being  in  the  ascendant,  whether  over  a  small 
coterie  of  select  worshipers  or  a  whole  generation  which 
he  sways  by  his  genius,  A  special  chapter  might  be  written 
on  the  favorite  authors  of  the  present  century ;  the  secret 
of  their  influence ;  the  explanation-  of  their  power — its  rise, 
culmination  and  its  sudden  or  gradual  decline.  The  names 
of  Scott,  Southey,  Byron,  Coleridge,  Wordsworth,  ^loore, 
Byron,  Bulwer-Lytton,  Carlyle,  James,  Dickens,  Tiiack- 
eray,  "  George  Eliot,"  Mrs.  Browning,  Tennyson  and  many 
others  in  England,  and  of  Irving,  Longfellow,  Mrs. 
Stowe,  Beecher,  Hawthorne,  Emerson,  Lowell,  etc.,  in 
this  country  will  occur  to  most  persons  as  examples  of 


54  Books  and  Reading.  [CHxr.  V. 

writers  who  have  more  or  less  extensively  exerted  this 
peculiar  influence.  When  it  is  salutary  and  elevating  it 
cannot  be  estiniat^ed  too  highly  as  an  influence  for  good. 
When  it  is  equiv^ocal  or  positively  evil  its  disastrous  power 
cannot  be  too  greatly  deplored.  Of  both  we  shall  have 
abundant  occasion  to  adduce  illustrations  as  we  proceed. 
AVe  hasten  to  observe : 

5.  That  it  is  a  good  rule  to  read  those  authors  whom  we 
are  competent  both  to  understand  and  appreciate.  This 
seems  so  true  and  obvious  as  to  be  a  truism  and  a  common- 
place. If  a  man  is  to  sympathize  Avith  his  author,  much 
more  if  he  is  to  criticise  and  judge  him,  he  must  certainly 
be  able  to  understand  his  meaning.  His  thoughts  and 
feelings  if  tliey  do  not  produce  answering  thoughts  and 
feelings,  are  nought  to  the  reader.  A  complete  and  familiar 
mastery  of  both  are  nece^ry  to  instruction  and  pleasure 
in  the  recipient.  We  do  not  say  an  easy  mastery  nor  a 
mastery  which  does  not  cost  at  times  severe  and  patient 
labor ;  for  he  who  has  never  struggled  to  comprehend  a 
profound  and  subtile  author  lias  never  had  experience  of 
the  manliest  of  activities — but  we  do  say  that  the  struggle 
should  be  successful  or  it  should  be  sooner  or  later 
abandoned.  There  is  not  a  more  silly  si)octacle  often  exhib- 
ited, than  that  of  an  untrained  or  an  uninstructed  person 
professing  to  follow  and  enjoy  a  writer  to  v^'hom  he  is  un- 
equal, looking  wise  over  his  philosopliy,  interested  in  his 
narrative  or  enraptured  by  his  eloquence  and  poetry,  when 
they  are  all  Greek  or  Chinase  to  liiin.  The  silliness  is 
especially  conspicuous  if  the  author  is  at  once  popular, 
conceited  and  arrogant ;  if  he  understands  and  })ractises  the 
arts  of  intellectual  trickery  and  delights  to  set  people  agape 
with  wonderment  by  sundry  small  artifices  of  high-sound- 
inci:  phraseology,  far-fetcliod  allusi<jns,  or  any  of  the  manJ- 
fold  impositions  of  word-j)lay  and  imagery,  or  the  more  of- 
0^2fiive  attractions  which  are  found  in  cool  irreverence  and 


Chap,  v.]       The  Relations  of  the  Reader  to  his  Author.       56 

audacious  nonchalance  vvitli  respect  to  the  prevailing  re- 
ligion of  the  country  in  which  he  lives.  The  more  real 
genius  he  has,  the  more  provoking  is  the  effrontery  of  the 
author  who  believes  in  and  practises  any  kind  of  philo- 
sophical or  poetical  trickery,  and  so  much  the  more  con- 
spicuous becomes  the  ridiculous  plight  into  which  his 
credulous  but  ignorant  admirers  bring  themselves  by  try- 
ing to  persuade  themselves  that  they  understand  a  writer 
who  may  not  completely  understand  himself. 

A  reader  should  never  be  afraid  to  confess  that  he  does 
not  understand  or  enjoy  an  author.  He  ought  indeed  at 
times  to  say  this  with  humility,  and  to  feel  that  he  thereby 
makes  a  confession  of  some  kind  of  incapacity,  but  he 
ought  to  have  the  manliness  to  say  it  notwithstanding, 
if  the  truth  requires  it.  It  is  a  fundamental  condition  of 
all  profitable  study  and  thought,  that  a  man  should  know 
his  ignorance  and  frankly  confess  it  to  himself.  If  a 
reader  does  not  appreciate  a  popular  writer  the  fault  may 
not  be  his  own.  It  may  perchance  be  in  the  author.  But 
it  can  never  be  settled  with  whom  it  lies,  unless  the  reader 
has  the  honesty  to  confess  to  himself  "his  incapacity  to  un- 
derstand or  enjoy  his  writer.  This  bravery  of  an  honest 
confession  of  one's  incompetence  to  understand  some  things 
that  are  written,  would  be  of  especial  service  nowadays 
when  so  much  brilliant  guess-work  and  imposing  dogma- 
tism is  put  forth  in  the  guise  of  all  manner  of  philosophies 
• — as  the  Philosophy  of  Religion,  of  Worship,  of  Art,  of 
Literature,  of  Reform,  of  Education,  of  Voting,  of  Fi- 
nance, of  Woman's  Rights  and  of  Man's  Duties,  etc.,  etc. 

The  fable  of  Aristophanes  concerning  Socrates  is  literal- 
ly fulfilled  in  our  time,  except  that  we  have  at  least  a  score 
of  sages  of  different  schools  hano-ins:  side  bv  side  each  in 
his  own  basket,  soaring  and  sinlcing  between  the  heavens 
and  the  earth,  swaying  to  and  fro  in  peril  of  a  sudden  tilt 
from  a  capricious  gust;  each  not  rarely  obscured  by  investing 


fi6  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  v. 

clouds,  which  betoken  inspiration  and  add  to  the  authority 
of  the  prophet,  especially  when  gilded  by  the  sunlight  of 
his  genius.  Beneuth  each  basket  sUuids  a  coterie  of  credu- 
lous listeners,  each  affecting  to  believe  what  they  do  not 
understand,  or  to  understand  what  they  ought  not  to  •be- 
lieve— all  charmed,  rapt,  persuaded  and  convinced  at  ieast 
of  two  things,  of  their  own  and  their  teachers'  superiority' ; 
and  all  alike  ready  to  reply  to  the  question,  "  Are  you  sure 
that  you  understand  all  the  oracular  sayings  of  your  pro- 
phet f  "  Wa'd  I  hae  the  presumption  T\  The  greater  is 
the  pity  that  many  of  them  do  not  have  the  presumption 
to  demand  that  their  favorite  teacher  should  write  so  that 
tliey  can  understand  him  ;  and  that  much  which  they  can- 
not but  understand,  they  do  not  reject  with  frank  and 
outspoken  aversion  !  This  duty  of  reading  authors  whom 
we  can  understand  suggests  another  rule,  viz.: 

6.  We  should  be  contented  to  read  that  which  is  suita- 
ble to  our  present  development  of  thought  and  feeling,  or 
in  plainer  language,  to  our  age  and  progress.  Everything 
is  appropriate  and  beautiful  in  its  season.  Eat  strawber- 
ries in  May  or  June,  and  wait  for  peaches  and  grapes  till 
the  Autumn.  Let  not  the  miss  just  entering  upon  her 
teens  expect  to  appreciate  the  poetry  or  philosophy  which 
her  brother  of  twenty-two  is  but  just  beginning  to  compre- 
hend and  enjoy.  Above  all  do  not  meddle  witli  philosopliy 
of  any  sort,  whether  it  comes  in  the  form  of  history,  of  fic- 
tion, or  grave  discussion,  until  you  can  grapple  with  its 
problems  and  follow  its  subtile  abstractions.  Let  your 
reading  in  every  department  follow  somewhat  the  order  of 
nature  and  of  psychical  growth,  and  tlie  growth  will  be  all 
the  more  rapid  and  easy.  The  transitions  from  that  which 
is  adapted  to  earlier  and  later  youth  and  to  dawning  and 
developed  manhood  will  be  easily  and  gracefully  accom- 
plished, and  both  intellect  and  fceling  will  find  in  the 
abundant  variety  of  literary  productions,  suitable  and  sat- 


Chap.  V.  ]     The  Bdations  of  the  Reader  to  his  Authw.      57 

isfying  nutriment  for  their  newly-developed  wants  and 
tastes.  Important  aid  in  the  selection  of  the  right  books 
according  to  this  rule  may  be  derived  from  advisers  who 
know  us  well.  But  the  rule  furnishes  in  itself  the  means 
for  its  own  enforcement,  if  we  considerately  apply  it.  As 
a  gencKal  truth,,facts  should  come  before  philosophy;  narra- 
tive before  reflection ;  objective  description  before  subject- 
ive meditation ;  poetry  that  is  graphic,  outward  and  pic- 
turesque before  that  'which  is  meditative,  learned  and  in- 
troverted ;  iind  history  that  paints  and  describes  before 
that  which  generalizes  and  interprets. 

We  have  already  intimated  that  we  do  not  mean  to  say 
by  either  or  both  of  these  rules,  that  we  should  never  read 
a  book  which  is  difficult  to  follow  or  comprehend,  and 
which,  it  may  be,  costs  a  severe  effort  to  master.  Books  of 
this  class  are  sometimes  the  most  useful  of  all  to  read. 
The  person,  particularly  the  student,  who  has  never 
wrestled  manfully  and  perseveringly  with  a  difficult  book 
will  be  good  for  little  in  this  world  of  Avrestling  and 
strife.  But  when  you  are  convinced  that  a  book  is 
above  your  attainments,  capacity  or  age,  it  is  of  little  use 
for  you,  and  it  is  wiser  to  leave  it  alone.  It  is  both  vex- 
ing and  unprofitable  to  stand  upon  on(!'s  toes  and  strain 
one's  self  for  hours  in  efforts  to  reach  the  fruit  w^hich  you 
are  not  tall  enough  to  gather.  It  is  better  to  leave  it 
till  it  can  be  reached  more  easily.  When  the  grapes  are 
both  ripe  and  within  easy  reach  for  you,  it  is  safe  to  con- 
clude that  they  are  not  sour. 

7.  The  style  of  a  writer  should  often  determine  whether 
we  read  or  neglect  him.  But  what  is  style  and  how  shall 
we  judge  whether  it  is  good  or  bad?  That  depends  upon 
our  taste ;  i.  e.,  whether  it  is  healthy  or  vitiated,  whether 
it  is  uncultured  or  rightly  trained.  Savages  and  semi-bar- 
barians are  fond  of  stimulating  and  strongly  contrasted 
colors,  of  violent  and  spasmodic  gesticulations,  of  shrieking 


58  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  v. 

and  dissonant  sounds,  of  noisy  and  discordant  music.  So 
in  literature,  there  are  semi-barbarians  who  delight  in  the 
glaring  and  the  grotesque,  the  extravagant  and  the  spas- 
modic, the  vulgar  and  sensational  in  diction  and  imagery. 
In  the  judgment  of  such,  those  books,  journals  and  news- 
papers only  are  up  to  the  times  and  produced  by  live  men, 
which  are  distinguished  by  characteristics  that  belong  to 
the  barbaric  age.  That  writer  is  trenchant  and  brilliant 
who  is  ill-mannered,  coarse,  personal  and  vituperative. 
That  orator  is  magnificently  eloquent  who  ranges  through 
the  classical  dictionary  for  historic  parallels  to  common 
men  and  common  occasions,  and  always  rides  on  the  top- 
most wave  of  his  tumid  diction.  Flii)pancy  and  audacity  are 
taken  for  genius  and  power,  and  a  perpetual  straining  after 
tawdry  ornaments  and  effective  diction,  such  as  remind  one 
of  war  paint  and  tattooing,  is  deemed  the  certain  indication 
of  intellectual  power.  People  of  more  refined  habits  and  a 
more  perfectly  developed  civilization,  require  a  somewhat 
different  style  in  the  writers  whom  they  delight  to  read — 
as  strength  without  roughness,  elegance  without  affectation, 
ease  without  weakness,  copiousness  without  verbosity  and 
courtesy  without  loss  of  dignity.  We  judge  of  style  some- 
what as  we  do  of  manners.  Whatever  in  expression  facil- 
itates the  easy  apprehension  and  the  pleasant  reception  of 
the  thoughts  and  sentiments ;  whatever  fits  both  like  a 
glove  and  seems  to  have  been  their  natural  growth ;  what- 
ever in  form  is  the  unstudied  product  of  an  earnest  and  re-^ 
fined  nature  is  in  general,  good  in  style.  On  the  other 
hand,  whatever  is  awkward,  indirect,  involved  and 
difficult  to  follow;  whatever  is  factitious  and  affected; 
whatever  is  overloaded  with  obtrusiye  and  gaudy  decora- 
tions ;  above  all,  whatever  is  swelling,  declamatory,  and 
overstrained  in  its  illustration  and  diction,  is  bad  in  style. 
We  may  read  an  author  whose  style  is  defective  or  bad, 
for  the  worth  of  his  matter,  but  a  bad  style  ought  never  to 


CaAP.  v.]       The  Rdoiions  of  the  Reader  to  his  Author.      59 

please  or  attract  us,  and  other  things  "being  equal,  we  cannot 
but  prefer  the  well  written  to  the  badly  Avritten  book. 

Style,  indeed,  is  not  to  be  judged  of  as  a  thing  of  the  su- 
premest  consequence,  but  as  chiefly  valuable,  as  it  renders 
easy  and  agreeable  the  communication  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing. "  The  more  sash  the  less  light, "  was  a  pithy  saying  in 
respect  of  diction,  often  uttered  by  a  writer  who  illustrated 
the  rule  by  his  own  example.  It  is  slightly  too  pointed  to 
be  altogether  true.  A  window  may  serve  other  ends  than 
to  let  in  the  white  light  of  winter  or  the  dazzling  glare  of 
summer ;  and  style  may  be  allowed  to  color  and  warm  in- 
tellectual clearness  with  the  hues  that  express  emotion,  and 
to  set  off  these  hues  by  varying  contrasts  of  beauty  and 
shading;  but  when  style  is  characterized  by  mere  pomp  and 
glitter,  by  artificial  nicety  or- studied  effect,  it  deserves  the 
contempt  of  every  person  of  sense,  as  truly  when  seen  in  a 
book  as  when  displayed  by  man.  But  as  in  conversing 
with  men,  we  are  naturally  pleased  with  an  easy  flow  of 
language  from  the  lips,  so  is  it  with  language  when  it  is 
written.  There  is  a  natural  grace  and  order  and  beauty 
which  lend  a  charm  that  cannot  be  described.  There  is  a 
power  in  expression  by  which  a  word  as  used  by  one  man 
will  produce  a  stronger  impression  than  a  page  composed 
by  another.  By  one  writer  thought  is  thrust  forth  as  dry 
as  a  withered  branch ;  by  another,  through  apt  illustration, 
it  is  made  fresh  and  blooming,  like  an  orange  bough 
just  broken  from  the  tree,  in  which  bud,  blossom  and  fruit 
mingle  their  fragrance  and  beauty.  From  one  man  truth 
falls  as  if  wrung  from  unwilling  lips ;  from  another  it 
leaps  into  form  and  action,  with  a  resistless  energy,  warm 
and  living,  startling  and  overpowering. 

It  is  of  vital  importance  to  our  success  and  pleasure  in 
readino-.that  the  books  which  we  read  should  be  well  writ- 
ten.  It  is  also  a  prime  necessity  that  our  ideal  of  what 
good  writing  is  should  be  just  and  elevated.     Next  to  bad 


60  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap,  v, 

morals  in  -wTiting,  should  be  ranked  bad  manners  in  dic- 
tion, or  an  infelicitous  style.  Awkwardness  may  be  ex- 
cused and  even  be  accepted  as  an  excellence  when  it  be- 
tokens sincerity  and  directness  of  aim,  but  vulgarity,  af- 
fectation, vituperation  and  bullying,  as  well  as  "  great 
swelling  words  of  vanity  "  and  lofty  airs  of  pompous  de- 
clamation, whether  of  the  Asiatic  and  Oriental  or  the 
American  and  Occidental  type — whether  heard  in  the  har- 
angue from  the  hustings,  in  the  sermon  from  the  pulpit,  or 
in  the  speech  to  the  universe  in  the  legislature — wliether 
written  in  the  newspaper  or  the  essay,  are  more  nearly 
akin^to  moral  defects  than  is  usually  believed  or  noticed. 
Indeed  they  rarely  fail  to  indicate  them.  Vague  declama- 
tion is  a  kind  of  conscious  falsehood.  Empty  rhetoric  is 
a  certain  sign,  as  well  as  an  efficient  promoter  of  insinceri- 
ty and  hollowness,  of  sham  and  pretence  in  the  character. 

The  fearful  slaughter  of  honest  English  that  is  com- 
mitted so  freely  by  sensation  preachers  and  traveling  poli- 
ticians under  the  name  of  eloquence,  and  the  more  fearful 
depravation  of  popular  taste  and  public  honesty  that  fol- 
lows the  admiration  of  such  tricks  of  empty  rhetoric  and 
factitious  declamation,  call  for  prosecution  by  the  Grand 
Inquest  as  dangerous  nuisances  to  the  public  conscience, 
no  less  than  as  open  offences  against  rhetorical  and  gram- 
matical  propriety. 

8.  It  is  implied  in  these  rules  that  no  person  sliould  feel 
obliged  to  read  everything  that  is  published.  Head  every- 
thing that  is  published  !  why  should  a  man  think  of  such 
a  thing?  It  were  as  reasonable  to  feel  obliged  to  talk  with 
every  man  whom  you  meet;  and  to  talk  with  him  as  long 
as  he  chooses  to  hold  you  by  the  button,  and  this  whether 
he  talks  sense  or  nonsense,  or  whether  what  he  says  con- 
cerns you  little  or  much  or  not  at  all.  And  yet  there  are 
men  who  aspire  to  read  everything  that  is  printed — men 
who  in  order  to  keep  abreast  with  "  the  literature  of  the 


Cbap.  V-i     The  Relations  of  the  Reader  to  his  Author.        61 

day,"  as  they  phrase  it,  labor  hard  at  the  service  and 
groan  inwardly  if  not  audibly,  because  the  time  fails  them, 
amidst  the  multitude  of  books  which  every  week  brings 
out.  But  the  attempt  and  the  desire  seem  to  us  very  un- 
reasonable. Unless,  indeed,  all  authors  are  equally  able 
and  honest,  choice  a3  well  as  necessity  should  direct  to  the 
opposite.  For  who  would  listen  to  an  organ-grinder  in 
the  streets  when  he  might  hear  from  the  noblest  of  instru- 
ments harmonies  fit  to  be  played  in  heaven  ?  Or  who 
would  stop  to  listen  to  a  violin  scraper  while  on  his  way  to 
a  series  of  solos  by  Ole  Bull  or  Paganini  ?  Or  who  would 
read  a  blundering,  confused  or  lying  history  when  he 
might  read  one  that  is  neat,  orderly  and  trustworthy  ?  Or 
why  read  the  one  when  you  are  satisfied  from  the  other  ? 
Who  would  read  a  novel  or  poem  that  depicts  disgusting 
or  degrading  scenes,  or  paints  virtuously  but  feebly,  Avhen 
he  might  read  those  that  present  worthy  themes  and  treat 
of  them  well?  Books  arc  constantly  issued,  concerning 
which  it  is  an  honor  to  a  man  to  say  that  he  has  not  read 
them— boolvs  which  repel  a  right-minded  man  on  the  very 
slightest  acquaintance, — books  of  which  such  a  man  would 
say  instinctively,  that  he  knows  enough  of  them,  to  wish 
to  know  nothing  more. 

But  these  thoughts  bring  us  to  a  graver  aspect  of  books 
and  reading,  which  we  must  reserve  for  another  chapter. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  INFLUENCE   OF   BOOKS   AND   READING  ON  THE 
OPINIONS  AND  PRINCIPLES. 

We  have  learned  that  the  best  boohs^  certainly  those  which 
are  the  most  interesting,  ai'c  the  books  which  most  distinct- 
ly express  some  individuality  in  their  authors.  We  have 
also  learned  that  that  reading  is  ordinarily  the  most  useful 
and  invigorating  Avhich  brings  us  most  closely  and  con- 
sciously into  contact  with  writers  of  marked  and  earnest 
personality. 

We  cannot  resist  the  inference  that  hooha  and  reading 
must  exert  a  powerful  influence  upon  the  opinions  and 
principles.  This  they  do  both  directly  and  indirectly — 
directly,  when  they  address  well  or  ill-reasoned  arguments 
to  the  understanding ;  indirectly,  when  their  influence 
upon  the  principles  is  secondary  and  unnoticed.  Hence  the 
rule — and  it  is  a  rule  of  the  first  importance — that  in  read- 
ing we  should  make  ourselves  distinctly  aware  of  the 
principles  of  a  writer,  so  far  as  he  consciously  or  uncon- 
sciously expresses  them  in  his  writings,  so  that  if  need  bo 
we  may  be  on  our  guard  against  them.  This  rule  is  not  so 
necessary  in  the  case  of  books  whieli  are  avowedly  written 
for  the  purpose  of  defending  a  system  of  opinion,  or  es- 
tablishing- a  political,  scientific,  or  theological  creed.  In 
such  cases  the  doctrines  may  be  true  or  they  may  be  false, 
tlie  opinions  may  be  salutary  or  pernicious;  but  tlic  positions 
are  distinctly  avowed,  and  the  reasons  for  them  are  urged 
directly  and  confessedly  for  the  purposes  of  conviction. 
There  may  be  serious  exposure  in  such  cases,  but  the  ex- 
62 


Chap.  VL]       Their  Influence  on  the  Principles.  63 

posure  is  one  of  wliich  we  are  distinctly  aware,  and  in 
which  to  ho  forewarned  is  to  be  forearmed.  In  respect  to 
these  cases,  we  do  not  propose  to  write  a  homily  on  that 
most  important  and  much  abused  direction,  "  Prove  all 
things ;  holdfast  that  which  is  good"  however  useful  and 
greatly  needed  such  a  homily  might  be.  We  shall  not 
stay  to  defend  the  utmost  courage  and  freedom  in  the 
formation  of  our  opinions,  by  the  use  of  light  and  evidence, 
from  whatever  sources  these  may  come.  Nor  shall  we  en- 
large upon  the  important  consideration  that  many,  not  to 
say  most,  inquirers  after  truth  may  often  learn  more  from 
the  antagonists  than  they  can  from  the  defenders  of  the 
opinions  which  they  accept ;  nor  shall  we  contend  that 
every  student  and  reader  should  honestly  estimate  and 
interpret  the  force  of  the  arguments  on  both  sides  of  every 
question,  as  they  are  in  fact  regarded  and  held  by  the  de- 
fenders of  each. 

Considerations  like  these  scarcely  need  to  be  urged  upon 
thoughtful  and  earnest  readers,  in  these  days  of  free  dis- 
cussion and  large  toleration ;  or,  as  Ave  might  say,  these 
days  when,  among  large  classes  of  bookish  and  reading 
men,  free  discussion  is  but  another  name  for  universal 
doubt,  or  a  free  and  easy  vacillation  of  opinion ;  when  free 
toleration  is  made  both  pretext  and  excuse  for  intellectual 
libertinism ;  when  earnest  and  fixed  convictions  on  many 
subjects  are  practically  judged  to  be  an  affair  of  association, 
or  taste ; — when  jesting  and  sneering  litterateurs  so  rarely 
think  of  asking  What  is  truth  f  or,  if  they  ask,  do  not 
"  icait  for  an  answer." 

Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  do  we  care  to  insist  on  the  dan- 
gers which  lie  in  the  opposite  direction,  from  a  premature 
agitation  of  opinions,  before  the  mind  is  capable  of  a  thor- 
ough and  dispassionate  examination  of  ijic  reasons  for  or 
against  them,  although  no  abuse  of  the  rule  "to  read  both 
sides  "  is  more  serious  in  its  consequences  tlian  that  which 


64  Books  and  Beading.  [Chap,  vi 

is  committed  by  persons  as  yet  untrained  to  discriminating 
analysis  or  comprehensive  speculation,  when  they  attempt 
to  judge  of  arguments  which  they  can  neither  comprehend 
nor  compare,  or  when  they  riL=h  headlong  into  the  study 
of  controversies  concerning  opinions  which  they  have  good 
practical  grounds  for  receiving.  Admonitions  of  this  sort, 
however  needful  or  pertinent  they  might  be  for  the  selec- 
tion of  books  and  the  direction  of  reading,  would  open  too 
wide  and  indefinite  a  field  of  discourse. 

We  limit  ourselves  to  the  unconscious  or  the  designed 
propagation  of  the  principles  of  an  individual  writer,  in 
.an  incidental  way,  by  means  of  writings  that  have  no 
direct  relation  to  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  these  principles, 
and  which,  as  works'  of  literature  rather  than  of  argument, 
profess  to  stand  apart  from  the  field  oi  discussion  and  of 
doctrine.  In  writings  of  this  kind  no  direct  attack  is 
made  upon  those  truths  which  are  held  sacred  by  right- 
minded  men.  The  convictions  which  men  arc  usually 
taught  to  accept  concerning  self-restraint  and  self-denial — 
concerning  the  decent  morals  and  the  courteous  manners, 
which  are  at  once  the  bonds  and  ornaments  of  human  life 
— ^are  courteously  recognized  with  outward  homage.  Con- 
science and  duty,  virtue  and  God,  are  named  with  respect, 
and  the  reader,  it  may  be,  is  formally  assured  that  no  man 
holds  them,  when  properly  understood,  in  higher  esteem 
than  does  the  writer.  And  yet,  in  the  tale  or  the  history, 
the  poem  or  the  essay,  such  language  is  used,  such  insinua- 
tions are  hinted,  such  associations  are  skillfully  evoked,  as 
to  depress  and  chill  the  better  aspirations  and  the  nobler 
enthusiasms,  and  to  leave  the  rca(l(>r  with  a  weakened 
faith  in  the  nobleness  of  man  and  the  goodneas  of  God. 

Notable  examples  of  influences  of  this  kind  are  furnished 
in  the  celebrated  histories  of  Gibbon  and  of  Hume.  Gib- 
bon has  left  behind  him  one  of  the  most  splendid  monu- 
ments of  human  genius  that  modern  literature  can  furnish. 


Chap.  VI.]         Their  Influence  on  the  Principles,  65 

Inspired  by  the  sublime  and  awful  recollections  that  haunt 
the  ruins  of  the  Eternal  City,  he  essayed  to  write  the  story 
of  the  "  Decline  and  Fall  "  of  that  wonderful  empire,  of 
whose  greatness  that  city  in  its  ruins  is  at  once  the  symbol 
and  the  sepulchre.  This  he  accomplished  with  an  indus- 
tiy  that  was  equal  to  the  herculean  labor  involved  in  the 
collection  of  his  materials,  and  with  a  genius  that  over- 
mastered and  moulded  his  learning  at  its  will.  There  are 
faults  in  Gibbon's  style,  and  there  may  be  defects  in  his 
narrative ;  but  no  man  can  deny  the  genius  that  could  at- 
tempt so  great  a  task,  and  could  execute  it  so  well ;  and  still 
less  the  value  and  splendor  of  the  work  which  it  has  left 
as  its  memorial.  But  it  happened  that  the  decline  and 
fall  of  Rome  was  coincident  with  the  rise  and  gro^vth  of 
another  Empire,  mysterious  in  its  beginnings  and  superhu- 
man in  its  force — a  kingdom  which  has  survived  the 
Avrecks  of  many  great  empires,  and  which  can  be  no  better 
described  than  in  the  words  of  the  prophet,  as  "  the  stone  " 
which  "became  a  great  mountain  and  filled  the  whole 
earth,"  as  the  kingdom  which  "should  break  in  pieces 
and  consume  all  these  kingdoms,"  and  shall  "stand  for  ever." 
Had  Gibbon's  genius  been  enlightened  by  faith,  so  that 
he  had  been  fired  and  elevated  at  the  thought  of  the  won- 
drous movements  of  this  unseen  empire — had  he  but  con- 
ceived somewhat  of  the  plan  of  God's  providence  in  first 
subduing  the  world  to  the  sway  of  one  iron  dominion,  that 
he  might  provide  and  prepare  a  suitable  arena  upon  which 
to  introduce  to  the  human  race  the  most  wonderful  being 
that  was  ever  born  of  that  race ;  so  that  when  this  race 
was,  as  it  were,  taught  to  know  one  language,  and  gath- 
ered into  one  grand  amphitheatre,  it  might  hear  God  speak 
to  man — he  would  have  contemplated  the  growth  and  cul- 
mination of  Rome  under  relations  that  were  far  higher  and 
more  elevating  than  any  which  he  recognized.  Plad  he 
also  seen  how,  to  further  the  purposes  connected  with  the 


66  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  vi. 

progress  of  the  new  kingdom,  it  must  first  be  incorporated 
with  the  old  Roman  dominion,  and  even  gain  possession 
of  the  throne  of  the  Caesars,  so  that  when  the  empire 
should  be  broken  in  pieces,  each  shivered  portion  might 
become  the  nucleus  of  a  new  Christian  state — had  he 
%vritten  of  Rome  as  thus  falling,  that  a  greater  than  Rome 
might  rise,  what  a  different  book  had  Gibbon's  history 
been  in  its  plan  and  its  principles,  in  its  influence  and  its 
fame !  Had  Gibbon  but  seen,  as  it  would  require  no  great 
stretch  of  honesty  or  candor  for  a  philosopher  to  see,  that 
everything  good  which  comes  to  man  and  dwells  among 
men  must  be  alloyed  by  human  imperfection,  and  that, 
therefore,  it  was  not  wonderful  that  Christian  priests  and 
Christian  teachers,  in  a  barbarous  age,  should  show  much 
of  human  passion  and  human  infirmity — and  had  he,  in- 
stead of  exaggerating  and  coloring  these  inconsistencies,  set 
forth  the  virtues  that  shone  the  brighter  because  encom- 
passed by  such  darkness,  how  much  nobler  and  truer  an 
impression  had  he  made !  Had  he  demonstrated  to 
himself  and  to  others,  that  the  natural  causes  in  the  pas- 
sions and  prejudices  of  men,  to  which  he  ascribes  the  pres- 
ervation and  triumph  of  a  system  which  was  in  deadly 
hostility  with  these  agencies,  did,  in  their  presence  and 
power,  only  serve  to  illustrate  the  over-mastering  force  of 
that  vital  principle  which  could  work  them  out,  throw 
them  off,  or  live  on  in  spite  of  them,  he  would  have  done 
but  justice  to  the  truth  as  well  as  to  the  grandeur  of  his 
theme. 

But  Gibbon  did  no  such  thing,  but  rather  made  the 
History  of  Rome,  with  all  its  splendor  as  a  theme  for  a 
Christian  historian,  to  be  an  occasion  for  the  insinuation 
of  debasing  unbelief,  and  the  manifestation  of  the  work- 
ings of  an  impure  imagination.  Of  the  tens  of  tliousands 
who  have  read  this  work  as  a  history,  and  for  historic 
purposes,  few  have  been  able  wholly  to  escape  the  indirect 


Chap.  VI.]         Their  Injluence  on  the  Principles,  67 

influences  which  pervade  it  in  every  part,  as  the  seeds  of 
death  will  shake  themselves  from  the  gorgeous  robes  of 
damask  and  gold  that  have  been  worn  by  one  smitten  of 
the  })lague.  We  do  not  wonder  that  the  great  and  good 
Dr.  Thomas  Arnold  was  moved,  by  the  thought  of  this 
evil,  to  undertake  to  write  a  history  of  Rome,  which  should 
be  animated  by  a  different  spirit. 

Hume  had  a  theme  only  inferior  to  that  of  Gibbon ; 
and  that  was  the  history  of  an  empire  which  is  more 
wonderful  in  many  of  its  relations  to  the  world  than  Rome 
ever  was  or  could  be,  even  in  the  pride  of  its  power. 
The  one  empire  was  honored  as  the  birth-place  of 
Christianity.  The  other  as  the  birth-place  of  that  liberty 
of  which  a  developed  and  free  Christianity  could  alone  be 
the  parent.  For  it  was  in  the  struggles  between  the  crown 
and  the  people  of  England,  that  "  the  good  old  cause  "  of 
human  rights  and  of  human  freedom  was  in  fact  made  the 
issue,  and  it  was  through  many  a  hard-fought  contest  of  dc 
bate  and  battle-field  that  liberty  became  triumphant,  and 
secured  for  herself  a  better  abode  and  ampler  room  in  her 
new-found  home  beyond  the  ocean.  How  did  Hume 
write  this  history,  so  inspiring  in  its  themes,  so  glorious  in 
tlie  heroic  men  and  the  splendid  deeds  of  strife  and  suffer- 
ing, which  emblazon  its  annals?  What  is  the  sympathy 
and  what  the  spirit  which  he  breathed  into  his  record  of 
these  men  and  their  deeds  ?  With  what  judgments  and  prin- 
ciples does  he  impregnate  every  line  of  his  narrative?  What 
impressions  does  he  leave  upon  the  minds  of  his  readers  of 
that  which  is  most  valuable  in  political  institutions  and 
practical  principles  ?  What  faith  does  he  awaken  in  the 
noble  and  the  heroic  in  character  ?  What  feelings  does  he 
excite  in  his  readers  towards  the  dead  whom  they  ought 
to  revere  and  the  living  who  would  emulate  their  ex- 
ample? To  these  questions  we  are  compelled  to  answer, 
that  he  wrote  with  a  continued  sneer  at  the  religious  faith 


68  Books  and  Heading,  [Chap,  vl 

and  fervor  which  fired  the  souls  who  resisted  the  throne 
on  the  one  side,  and  with  scarce  spirit  and  soul  enough  to 
do  justice  to  the  chivalrous  loyalty  that  lent  its  grace  ta 
the  mistakes  and  wrongs  of  tyranny  on  the  other ;  and  the 
consequence  was  that  he  made  out  of  the  wondrous  history 
of  England,  a  work  fit  only  to  be  read  by  men  who,  hav- 
ing faith  neither  in  God's  truth,  nor  in  man's  nobleness, 
are  prepared  to  be  skeptics,  self-seekers,  and  slaves.  And 
yet  so  easy  is  his  narrative,  so  plausible  are  his  representa- 
tions, and  so  specious  are  his  arguments,  that  thousands  of 
readers  have  confided  themselves  to  his  direction,  without 
suspecting  that  the  author  was  chilling  their  enthusiasm 
for  private  and  public  virtue,  or  weakening  their  faith  in 
self-forgetting  devotion  to  freedom  and  to  God. 

The  two  well-known  histories  of  the  United  States,  by 
Bancroft  and  Hildreth,  are  pervaded  by  the  political  and 
practical  philosophy  of  their  respective  authors.  Their 
views  of  life,  their  estimates  of  character,  as  well  as  of  the 
conditions  of  greatness  in  the  individual  and  the  state,  arc, 
in  some  respects,  strikingly  contrasted,  and  yet  for  differ- 
ent reasons  the  peculiar  principles  of  each  are  open  to  ex- 
ception. No  man  can  study  either  of  their  histories  M'ith- 
out  being  either  so  consciously  aware  of  their  principles  as 
to  accept  or  reject  them,  or  without  being  unconsciously 
moved  to  admiring  sympathy,  to  unexplained  antipatliy, 
or  to  decided  aversion.  The  sanguine  and  naif  democracy 
of  Bancroft  sometimes  becomes  so  emphatic  and  extreme 
as  to  remind  us  of  the  wretched  rant  which  in  the  lleign 
of  Terror  thundered  from  the  tribune  in  the  daily  assem- 
blies of  the  Convention,  and  shrieked  by  night  in  the 
frenzied  gatherings  of  the  Hall  of  the  Jacobins.  His  care- 
ful and  exhaustive  research,  and  his  painstaking  comjjre- 
hensiveness,  are  an  insufficient  offset  against  the  superficial 
philosophy  that  sometimes  reminds  us  equally  of  the  ped- 
ant and  the  demagogue.     The  pains-taking  accuracy  and 


Chap.  VI.]         Their  Influence  on  the  Principles.  69 

the  judicial  severity  of  Hildreth,  do  not  atone  for  his  sar- 
donic bitterness,  his  cynic  misanthropy,  and  his  inveterate 
dislikes;  least  of  all  for  the  chilling  lesson  of  the  nil  ad- 
mirari  with  which  he  weakens  our  faith  in  and  respect  for 
self-sacrifice  and  self-denial. 

The  organs  of  great  parties  and  interests,  whether  politi- 
cal or  religious,  do  not  merely  defend  by  open  and  legiti- 
mate methods,  the  distinctive  principles  which  they  are 
set  to  represent,  but  their  judgments  of  men  and  of  books, 
of  literature  and  philosophy,  of  tendencies  and  events — in 
a  word  their  blame  and  their  praise — are  determined  more 
or  less  completely  by  the  political  and  religious  opinions 
of  their  party  and  school.  This  influence  is  pervasive  like 
the  atmosphere,  and  it  constitutes  what  is  called  the  tone 
and  spirit  of  the  journal,  of  the  presence  and  character  of 
which  the  constant  or  occasional  reader  is  not  always  so 
distinctly  aware,  as  he  must  inevitably  be  more  or  less 
affected  by  it.  We  cite  as  examples,  Blackwood's  Ilaga- 
zine  and  The  Westminster  Review.  In  the  conduct  of  the 
first,  when  at  the  height  of  its  power,  were  employed 
genius  the  most  splendid  and  various,  as  well  as  classical 
and  historical  learning  both  brilliant  and  profound.  In 
the  same  number,  and  in  the  same  paper,  fun  and  frolic, 
carried  to  the  extreme  of  bacchanalian  revelry,  mingle 
with  sacred  eloquence  and  poetry,  and  each  of  these  in- 
congruous elements  is  represented  with  unrivalled  fresh- 
ness and  force.  This  magazine  has  been  devoted  from  the 
first  to  the  interests  of  the  Tory  party  in  Great  Britain,  and 
the  influence  of  its  wit  and  humor,  of  its  poetry  and  phil- 
osophy, of  its  science  and  theology,  has  been  to  strength- 
en this  interest  in  Church  and  State.  Many  an  enthusii 
astic  American  youth  has  read  it  with  admiration  for 
years,  and,  as  the  result,  has  found  himself,  without  know^ 
ing  why  or  how,  the  bond  slave  or  devotee  to  all  its  pecu- 
liar   prejudices — has    been    made   an   English   Tory  on 


70  Boohs  and  Reading,  [Chap.  vl. 

American  soil,  with  all  the  comfortable  self-complacence 
and  the  real  awkwardness  of  such  a  position.  The  West- 
minster Review  has  stood  at  the  other  extreme.  It  has  been 
critical  and  learned,  acute  and  fearless,  sharp  and  out- 
spoken. The  authority  of  tradition,  the  prestige  of  rank, 
the  prerogative  of  office,  the  associations  of  the  past,  the 
pretension  of  the  schools,  have  not  deterred  it  from  bold 
attacks  on  everything  that  is  venerable  and  sacred  in  Church 
and  State.  Its  principles  stand  out  too  distinctly  to  fail  to 
be  observed.  No  reader  of  this  Review  can  fail  to  know 
what  its  principles  are.  We  fear,  however,  that  many 
who  dislike  and  reject  its  doctrines  are  influenced  by  its 
spirit  and  philosophy  more  than  they  are  aware  or  would 
be  willing  to  acknowledge. 

Thomas  Carlyle  never  fails  to  impregnate  whatever  he 
writes  with  a  large  infusion  of  his  opinions  as  the  Prophet 
of  Discontent  and  Antagonism  towards  whatever  the  age 
which  he  despises  sees  fit  to  honor.  The  sjjhere  in  which 
he  rules  is  that  of  the  ^^Everlasting  No ;^^  his  protest  is  a 
perpetual  veto.  That  he  never  fails  to  utter  this  protest  with 
brilliancy  and  power  the  multitude  of  his  bewildered  ad- 
mirers testify  with  unwavering  enthusiasm.  That  not  a  few 
of  these  admirers  are  affected  by  his  supercilious  misan- 
thropy and  his  cynical  discontent  is  confessed  by  all  but 
themselves.  Among  American  Avriters,  the  keen-minded 
Holmes,  the  wide-minded  Emerson,  the  subtle-minded 
Hawthorne,  the  cynical-minded  Thoreau,  in  whatever  they 
write,  proclaim  each  an  Evangel,  though  it  must  be  con- 
fessed that  this  Evangel,  varies  somewhat  from  that  which 
has  usually  been  received  as  the  Christian  Gospel. 

It  ought  to  be  no  matter  of  wonder  that  a  book  should 
be  thus  pervaded  by  the  principles  and  even  by  the  preju- 
dices of  its  author.  Every  book  comes  from  tl)e  mind  of 
a  man,  and  if  he  writes  earnestly,  as  he  must  if  he  writes 
with  effect,  he  will  write  as  he  thinks  and  feels,  and  even 


^Thap.  VI.]       Their  Influence  on  the  Principles.  71 

when  he  does  not  intend  it,  and  his  mind  is  intent  on 
something  besides,  his  thoughts  and  feelings  cannot  but 
make  themselves  manifest.  We  do  not  advise  that  a  man 
should  never  read  books  that  imply  principles  which  he 
thinks  to  be  false  or  dangerous.  We  only  say  that  he 
should  be  aware  of  the  fact  that  they  are  thus  diffused ;  that 
they  give  character  and  tone  to  large  classes  of  books ; 
and  most  important  of  all,  that  they  have  no  greater  au- 
thority when  insinuated  by  means  of  a  book,  whether  it  be 
histoiy  or  tale,  poem  or  book  of  travel,  than  when  they 
are  openly  or  insidiously  uttered  by  the  lips  of  a  living 
man. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  MOEAL  INFLUENCE  OF  BOOKS  AND  READING. — 
THE   READING   OF   FICTION. 

We  are  brought  insensibly  to  a  subject  still  more  seri- 
ous— the  Moral  Influence  of  Books  and  Heading.  What 
is  the  question  that  presents  itself?  It  cannot  be  whether 
books  should  be  read  of  which  the  moral  influence  is  evil. 
No  man  who  seriously  believes  in  right  and  wrong  can 
give  but  one  answer  to  this  question.  But  the  question  is, 
What  books  are  such  ?  how  can  they  be  distinguished,  de- 
scribed and  classified  ?  how  can  I  be  certain  that  a  book 
which  will  be  hurtful  to  another,  will  be  injurious  to  my- 
self? As  a  general  answer  to  these  inquiries,  we  can  give 
no  better  rule  than  the  following  by  Robert  Southcy : 
"  Would  you  know  whether  the  tendency  of  a  book  is  good 
or  evil,  examine  in  what  state  of  mind  you  lay  it  down. 
Has  it  induced  you  to  suspect  that  that  which  you  have 
been  accustomed  to  think  unlawful,  may  after  all  be  inno- 
cent, and  that  that  may  be  harmless,  which  you  hitherto 
have  been  taught  to  think  dangerous  ?  Has  it  tended  to 
make  you  dissatisfied  and  impatient  under  the  control  of 
others  ?  and  disposed  you  to  relax  in  that  self-government, 
without  Avhich  both  the  laws  of  God  and  man  tell  us  there 
can  be  no  virtue  and  consequently  no  happiness  ?  Has  it 
attempted  to  abate  your  admiration  and  reverence  for  what 
is  great  and  good,  and  to  diminish  in  you  the  love  of  your 
country  and  your  fellow-creatures?  Has  it  addressed  it- 
self to  your  pride,  your  vanity,  your  selfishness,  or  any 
other  of  your  evil  propensities?  Has  it  defiled  the  imag- 
.72 


Chap.  VII.]  Their  Moral  Influence.  73 

ination  with  what  is  loathsome,  and  shocked  the  heart 
with  what  is  monstrous  ?  Has  it  disturbed  the  sense  of 
right  and  wrong  which  the  Creator  has  implanted  in  the 
human  soul?  If  so — if  you  are  conscious  of  all  or  of  any 
of  these  effects — or  if,  having  escaped  from  all,  you  have  felt 
that  such  were  the  effects  it  was  intended  to  produce,  throw 
the  book  into  the  fire,  young  man,  though  it  should  have 
been  the  gift  of  a  friend !  Young  lady,  away  with  the 
whole  set,  though  it  should  be  the  prominent  furniture  of 
a  rosewood  book-case  !" — {The  Doctor.) 

These  rules  are  uncompromising  in  fheir  severity  and 
strictness,  but  tolerant  in  their  respect  for  individual  free- 
dom and  discretion.  They  yield  nothing  to  appetite  and 
passion,  hoAvever  insidiously  these  may  be  addressed,  or 
however  tempting  may  be  the  allurements  with  which 
genius  masks  the  temptations  or  palliates  the  consent  to 
evil.  They  allow  neither  paltering  nor  parley  with  that 
which  would  mislead  or  offend.  They  stimulate  the  moral 
energies  like  a  fresh  and  invigorating  breeze.  But  they  al- 
low every  one  to  judge  for  himself  what  may  expose  him  to 
harm,  and  permit  no  one  besides  to  judge  for  him  or  to 
rejudge  his  judgments.  No  larger  liberty  for  the  individ- 
ual can  be  conceived  of  than  that  which  these  rules  allow. 

With  such  rules,  or  rules  so  phrased,  a  very  large  class 
of  critics,  are  not  at  all  content.  They  would  be  more  de- 
finite. They  must  name  not  only  the  books,  but  the  classes 
of  books  which  are  always  and  only  evil.  Some  denounce 
all  light  literature  so-called,  with  a  condemnation  that  is 
by  no  means  light  in  the  matter  or  the  manner.  Others 
reject  everything  that  is  fictitious,  with  a  saving  clause^ 
that  saves  little  or  nothing  that  is  worth  preserving. 
Poetry,  Novels,  and  the  written  Drama,  and  whatever  ad- 
dresses the  imagination  are  labelled  by  such  mentors  aa 
suspected  or  infected  goods. 

There  is  nothing  which  gives  greater  pleasure  to  the 


74  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Ch*p.  vii. 

friends  of  that  literature  which  is  really  demoralizing,  than 
such  wholesale  and  indiscriminate  attacks  upon  works 
of  the  imagination,  especially  if  they  are  made  from  the 
pulpit  or  in  the  name  of  religion.  Such  persons  know, 
that  as  they  are  uttered  they  are  not  true,  and  cannot  be 
successfully  defended.  They  know,  moreover,  that  the 
rejection  of  what  is  false  and  excessive  in  them  will  destroy 
the  good  influence  of  what  is  true — that  those  who  make 
these  attacks  will  be  excluded  from  the  field  of  literature 
in  dishonor,  and  leave  it  free  for  their  own  exclusive  oc- 
cupation. The  false  issue  made  in  the  attack  gives  the 
amplest  opportunity  for  a  false  issue  in  the  defence. 
This  issue  they  thus  present :  They  do  not  defend  the  per- 
version of  the  imagination,  not  they !  but  only  its  inno- 
cent and  healthy  use ;  and  thus  under  the  name  of  the 
liberty  of  nature,  they  secure  the  sphere  and  influence 
of  literature  to  the  service  of  licentiousness.  The  motto 
prefixed  to  one  of  the  most  shameless  poems  of  the  present 
century,  shows  conclusively  how  an  unfair  attack  suggests 
and  justifies  a  skillful  but  unfair  retort  and  defence :  "  Dost 
think  because  thou  art  virtuous  that  there  shall  be  no  more 
cakes  and  ale  ?  Yes,  and  ginger  shall  be  hot  in  the  mouth." 
After  this  defence  of  harmless  "  cakes  and  ale,"  spiced  a 
little,  but  with  nothing  hotter  than  "  ginger,"  what  does  the 
writer  do,  but  under  this  label  send  out  to  the  world  a 
poisonous  and  disgusting  mixture  of  arsenic  and  assafoetida, 
in  a  poem,  parts  of  which  are  fit  only  to  be  read  or  heard 
in  a  brothel ! 

This  being  but  too  just  an  account  of  the  manner  in 
which  the  question  in  respect  to  the  moral  influence  of  fic- 
titious and  imaginative  literature  is  argued  on  both  sides, 
it  seems  desirable  that  one  or  two  sugn-cstions  should  be  of- 
fered  towards  its  right  determination. 

We  assert  then  first  of  all,  that  a  book  is  not  of  necessity 
demoralizing,  because  it  is  fictitious  or  imaginative.     The 


Chap.  VII.]  Their  Moral  Influence.  75 

iinagiuation  is  an  endowment  from  Grod,  and  as  such  is  not 
to  be  dishonored  or  depreciated  by  the  sneering  or  ignorant 
contempt  of  man.  It  is  also  one  of  the  noblest  human 
powers — the  power  which  in  some  of  its  aspects  is  nearest 
to  the  divine,  and  as  such  is  capable  of  the  most  exalted 
uses,  and  of  an  influence  for  good  which  cannot  be  comjju- 
ted.  Of  its  products  in  literature  Lord  Bacon  says:  "The 
use  of  this  feigned  history  has  been  to  give  some  shadow  of 
satisfaction  to  the  mind  of  man  in  those  points,  wherein 
the  nature  of  things  doth  deny  it,  the  world  being  in  pro- 
portion inferior  to  the  soul.  .  .  .  Therefore  because 
the  acts  or  events  of  true  history .  have  not  that  magni- 
tude which  satisfieth  the  mind  of  man,  poesy  feigneth 
acts  and  events  greater  and  more  heroical,  because  true 
history  propoundeth  the  successes  and  issues  of  actions 
not  so  agreeable  to  the  merits  of  virtue  and  vice,  there- 
fore poesy  feigns  them  more  just  in  retribution,  and 
more  according  to  revealed  providence:  because  true  his- 
tory representeth  actions  and  events  more  ordinary  and 
less  interchanged,  therefore  poesy  endueth  them  with 
more  rareness  and  more  unexpected  and  alternate  varia- 
tion: so  it  appeareth  that  poesy  serveth  and  conferreth 
to  magnanimity,  morality,  and  delectation.  And,  there- 
fore, it  was  ever  thought  to  bear  some  participation  of 
dimneness,  because  it  doth  raise  and  erect  the  mind,  by 
submitting  the  shows  of  things  to  the  desires  of  the  mind, 
whereas  reason  doth  buckle  and  bow  the  mind  unto  the 
nature  of  things." — On  the  Advancement  of  Learning.  If 
Lord  Bacon  is  right  then  there  is  nothing  in  the  nature  of 
a  work  as  fictitious  which  makes  it  either  immoral  or  of 
immoral  tendency.  It  is  no  argument  against  a  book,  to 
say  that  it  is  a  novel  or  poem,  nor  does  the  fact  that  it  is  .a 
novel  or  poem  show  that  it  is  less  favorable  to  morality  or 
even  to  religion,  than  to  say  that  it  is  a  collection  of  homi- 
lies or  sermons.     All  appeals  and  indiscriminate  assertions 


76  Books  and  Heading.  [Chap.  vii. 

that  are  directed  against  the  reading  of  novels  or  poetry  as 
such,  are  like  the  guns  of  Trumbull's  McFingal  which, 

"well  aimed  at  duck  and  plover, 
Bear  wide  and  kick  their  owners  over." 

More  than  this  is  true.  Not  only  is  it  clear  that  fiction 
and  poetry  may  exert  a  good  influence,  but  it  is  equally 
obvious  that  they  do  in  fact  exert  an  influence  that  is  both 
healthful  and  elevating.  Next  to  falling  in  love  with  one 
who  is  worthy  of  the  first  and  best  afiections  of  the  lover, 
should  be  ranked  in  its  influence  for  good,  the  reading  of 
the  first  really  good  novel  or  poem  which  takes  a  strong 
and  permanent  hold  of  the  heart  and  cliaracter.  There  is 
a  charm  investing  this  ideal  world  for  the  first  time  un- 
veiled to  the  view,  and  a  superhuman  elevation  in  the 
beings  who  live  and  move  in  it — a  purity  in  their  loves,  a 
dignity  in  their  acts,  and  a  weight  and  sacredncss  in  their 
words,  which  hold  the  young  reader  as  by  a  spell,  and  lead 
him  a  delighted  captive.  AYith  what  joy  does  the  de- 
lighted pupil  of  Romance  tread  the  common  earth  now 
glorified  for  the  first  time  to  his  anointed  eyes,  or  look  out 
upon  the  transfigured  sky  now  that  heaven  is  seen  to  glow 
beyond  it !  With  'what  delight  does  he  greet  the  face  of  man 
and  woman  when  he  learns  that  they  are  capable  of  poetic 
idealization ;  what  new  views  does  he  take  of  life?  as  soon 
as  he  awakes  to  the  discovery  that  its  common  prose  can 
be  turned  into  romance  and  poetry  !  It  is  not  merely  true 
that  as  young  peoj)le  vnll  fall  in  love,  so  they  ioUl  read 
poetry  and  novels,  but  we  add,  as  it  is  well  that  they  fall 
in  love,  if  they  love  aright,  so  it  is  well  that  they  read 
works  of  imagination,  if  they  read  them  aright.  Of  many 
a  young  man  has  it  been  true,  that  the  sentiments  of  his 
favorite  poet,  or  of  some  ideal  character  in  his  favorite 
novel,  have  exerted  a  healthful  and  elevating  influence 
over  his  whole  being — have  been  made  the  standard  of  his 


Chap.  VII.]  Their  Moral  Influence.  77 

own  efforts,  and  have  breathed  the  breath  of  life  into  his 
feeble  aspirations.  Were  a  wise  man  to  have  the  complete 
control  over  the  mind  and  heart  of  a  young  person  of 
either  sex,  and  to  seek  to  form  him  or  her  after  the  ideal  of 
a  generous,  affectionate,  and  heroic  character  which  would 
be  ready  to  labor,  to  suffer,  and  if  need  be,  to  die  for  man 
or  for  God,  he  would  freely  avail  himself,  at  proper  in- 
tervals and  in  a  due  proportion,  of  the  writings  of  men  of 
imaginative  genius.  He  would  teach  his  pupil  not  only 
to  love  and  admire  them,  but  to  study  them  thoroughly, 
to  enter  fully  into  their  spirit,  that  he  might  cherish  purer 
thoughts,  more  disinterested  affections,  and  better  ideals 
than  the  actual  contact  with  life  can  possibly  furnish. 
The  private  history  of  the  training  of  many  of  the  noblest 
men  and  women  whom  the  earth  has  ever  seen,  would 
amply  justify  the  wisdom  of  this  theory  of  moral  culture. 
If  we  reflect  upon  the  actual  influence  for  good  which 
proceeds  from  writers  of  this  class,  the  argument  gathers 
an  uncomputed  and  a  resistless  force.  We  speak  of  good 
in  the  large  and  liberal  sense  of  the  word  ; — not  merely  as 
it  is  obvious  in  writers  who  have  consecrated  their  genius 
directly  to  the  service  of  devotion,  as  Watts,  Cowper, 
Young,  and  Milton  in  large  measure ;  but  of  the  good 
which  has  come  from  Shakspeare,  Scott,  Burns,  and  many 
others,  by  the  introduction  to  the  world  of  thought  and 
feeling  of  ideals  that  are  pure  and  elevating,  when  glowing 
with  those  golden  hues  with  which  genius  transfigures  the 
lowliest  thing  which  she  touches  with  her  finger.  What 
another  place  has  this  prosaic  world  become  to  every 
reader  of  the  English  language,  since  Milton,  Shaks- 
peare, Burns  and  Scott,  have  perpetuated  in  that  lan- 
guage the  visions  which  once  met  their  imaginations  ? 
With  what  another  atmosphere  of  thought  and  feeling  is 
the  intellect  and  heart  of  every  reader  elevated,  invigora- 
ted, and  refreshed  ?     The  characters  and  scenes  described 


78  Boolcs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  vil. 

and  depicted  by  each  have  become  to  us  as  real  and  as  per- 
manent as  are  the  sun  and  the  stars,  or  the  faces  of  our 
familiar  friends.  We  never  behold  them  but  they  quickea 
our  thoughts  and  give  new  life  to  our  feelings.  They 
are  a  part,  and  not  the  least  important,  of  the  actual  world, 
ever  exerting  upon  our  characters  and  lives  a  powerful  and 
constant  influence.  Each  new  mind  upon  which  open 
these  wondrous  pages,  •gratefully  owns  their  power.  Their 
ideal  but  still  intensely  real  scenes  and  characters  hence- 
forward control  and  possess  his  world  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing, and  still  they  live  on  and  will  act  on  other  genera- 
tions with  unexhausted  energy.  To  these  creations  might 
be  applied  with  eminent  significance  the  remark  of  the  old 
monk  to  Wilkie  concerning  Titian's  Last  Supper :  "  I 
have  sat  daily  in  sight  of  that  picture  for  now  nearly 
threescore  years;  during  that  time  my  companions  have 
dropped  off,  one  after  another,  all  who  were  my  seniors, 
all  who  were  my  contemporaries,  and  many  or  most  of 
those  who  were  younger  than  myself;  more  than  one  gen- 
eration has  passed  away,  and  there  the  figures  on  the 
picture  have  remained  unchanged  !  I  look  at  them  till  I 
sometimes  think  that  they  are  the  realities,  and  we  but 
shadows."  In  Milton,  the  Paradise  which  was  lost  al- 
ways blooms  in  virgin  freshness.  Satan,  Moloch,  and 
Belial  are  ever  holding  their  perpetual  council  and  utter- 
ing words  of  specious  cunning  or  of  inextinguishable  hate. 
The  mother  of  our  race  is  always  mourning  the  loss  of  her 
sinless  home,  or  with  heart-broken  grief  charges  upon  her- 
self the  guilt  of  the  first  transgression.  In  the  Paradise 
Regained,  the  ancient  world  is  still  mapped  out  before  the 
eye,  which  here  beholds 

"  Whom  on  tho  J?j»pan  shore  a  city  stands, 
Built  nobly,  pure  the  air,  and  li^ht  the  soil, 
Athens  the  eye  of  Greece,  mother  of  arts  and  eloquence." 

And  there  is  described  imperial   Rome,  along  whose 


Chap.  VII.]  Thdr  Moral  In/hence.  79 

famous  roads  and  through  whose  opened  gates  are  ever 
trooping  her  legions  and  tributaries,  to  and  from  the  limits 
of  her  Avorld-wide  empire.  Comus  with  his  bacchanalian 
crew  still  tempts  with  artful  cunning,  and  is  still  repelled 
by  the  pure-hearted  lady  who,  strong  in  virtue,  waits  a 
certain  rescue.  The  genius  of  mirth  is  always  tripping  by 
upon  "  the  light  fantastic  toe,"  while  her  graver  sister  is 
ever  moving  forward  with  downcast  eye  and  measured 
tread. 

In  Shakspeare,  Hamlet  is  always  the  same,  with  senses 
half  paralyzed  at  the  wrong  he  has  suffered,  and  with 
mind  perplexed  that  the  times  should  be  so  "  out  of  joint," 
and  he  be  called  to  set  them  right ;  the  gentle  Ophelia  is 
always  wailing ;  the  wronged  Desdemona  is  ever  sobbing 
out  the  disappointment  of  her  crushed  and  broken  heart ; 
the  injured  but  uncomplaining  Cordelia,  wonders  at,  but 
does  not  reproach  her  cruel  sisters,  and  comforts  as  bast 
she  can,  the  distracted  father  whom  their  cruelty  would 
murder ;  Lady  Macbeth  stands  in  guilty  horror  pointing  to 
the  "  damned  spot "  which  will  not  "out  "  at  her  bidding ; 
and  ever  as  we  gaze  upon  these  forms,  or  hear  the  words 
of  these  creatures  of  the  imagination,  our  flesh  creeps  with 
horror,  our  hearts  are  elated  with  joy,  burn  with  indigna- 
tion, or  relax  into  weeping  grief. 

What  a  world  of  living  beings  has  Scott  created,  what 
personages  has  he  called  into  life,  what  conversations  do 
we  hear  from  their  lips,  what  stirring  events  are  still 
wrought  by  their  agency  !  Nay,  more;  he  has  carried  these 
all  into  the  real  world  and  given  them  a  perpetual  habita- 
tion there.  Old  castles,  and  moors,  and  mountain-tops, 
and  battle-fields,  each  have  received  from  him  the  new 
inhabitants  evoked  by  his  genius,  so  that  when  the  travel- 
er visits  them  it  is  not  alone  the  ruined  wall,  nor  the  bare 
mountain,  nor  the  unruffled  lake  that  he  sees ;  but  here  the 
royal  retinue  seems  to  group  itself  around  the  "  maiden 


80  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap,  vit. 

queen,"  within  the  ruined  castle  of  Kenil  worth ;  there 
Roderick's  clan  springs  up,  one  by  one,  each  from  behind  a 
concealing  roclv,  and  there  the  Lady  Ellen  pushes  out  her 
light  canoe. 

How  has  Burns  by  his  wondrous  touch  turned  the 
house  of  every  Scottish  peasant  into  an  abode  of  content, 
and  love  and  piety,  and  every  simple  Scottish  lass  into  a 
fairy  being,  and  as  a  reward  for  the  glory  which  he  gave 
to  his  beloved  Scotia,  has  made  for  his  poems  in  the  actual 
homes  of  Scotland,  a  place  next  to  the  Bible,  and  a 
warm  and  thrilling  remembrance  in  every  living  Scotch- 
man's heart  I 

To  hold  intercourse  with  such  creations,  if  the  scenes  be 
innocent  and  the  transcripts  are  made  from  no  vicious  and 
degrading  realities,  cannot  be  unfavorable  to  pure  and  ele- 
vated moral  feeling,  even  if  there  be  no  moral  to  the  tale  or 
poem  and  no  religious  enforcement  of  its  lessons.  It  is  at 
least  an  invigorating,  use  of  the  powers  to  occupy  them  with 
such  creations  of  the  lofty  or  humorous  imagination. 

We  are  prepared  to  assert  that  not  only  is  the  so-called 
imaginative  literature  useful  in  its  influence,  but  that  all 
literature  whatever  finds  its  principal  power  to  elevate,  in 
the  culture  and  stimulus  which  it  furnishes  to  the  imagina- 
tion— that  literature  as  such  as  distinguished  from  that  use 
of  letters  which  adds  to  scientific  knowledge  or  aims  at 
conviction,  i.  e.  literature  in  the  most  of  its  forms,  is 
chiefly  valuable  for  what  it  does  for  the  imagination  by 
enlarging  its  range,  elevating  its  ideals,  stimulating  its  aims, 
and  purifying  and  ennobling  its  associations.  To  decry 
the  imaginative  faculty  and  its  products  is  to  decry  all  lit- 
erary culture  if  not  to  abrogate  culture  of  every  kind. 

Let  all  this  be  granted  says  the  objector  or  inquirer.  But 
what  if  the  scenes  are  vicious,  the  sentiments  false,  and  the 
passions  are  sensual,  malignant,  and  degrading?  The  an- 
swers to  these  and  kindred  questions  must  be  reserved  for 
further  discussion. 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

IMAGINATIVE  LITERATURE :   ITS   REPRESENTATIONS  OP 
MORAL  EVIL. 

In  our  last  we  had  reached  the  Moral  Influence  of 
Books  and  Heading,  and  in  discussing  this  were  brought 
to  the  questions  so  often  mooted  of  the  moral  influence  of 
the  so-called  works  of  the  imagination.  We  attempted 
the  defence  of  such  works  in  the  general,  by  citing  ex- 
amples from  writers  to  whom  all  men  pay  a  willing  hom- 
age. Our  discussion  was  arrested  by  the  half-inquiry, 
half-objection  :  "  What  if  the  scenes  are  vicious,  the  senti- 
ments are  false,  and  the  passions  are  sensual,  malignant,  or 
degrading  ?  Can  it  be  morally  healthful  that  one  should 
be  conversant  with  such  pictures,  thoughts,  and  feelings, 
especially  if  armed  with  double  energy,  and  clothed  with 
dangerous  fascinations  by  the  power  of  genius  ?  Would 
you  have  your  son  or  your  daughter  excited  by  the  scenes, 
infatuated  by  the  characters,  or  tempted  by  the  words  of 
Byron,  Moore,  Bulwer,  Goethe,  or  even  of  many  that  they 
find  in  Shakspeare,  Milton,  Burns,  and  Scott  ?  In  the 
works  of  every  one  of  these  writers,  I  can  point  you  to 
many  passages  that  should  never  be  presented  to  a  pure 
and  virtuous  mind.  The  very  contact  with  them  must  in- 
volve some  soil  or  taint,  if  it  does  not  impart  corruption. 
To  entertain  them  in  any  form,  to  suffer  them  to  confront 
the  imagination,  or  to  glide  before  the  eye  of  the  mind 
even  for  an  instant,  is  to  be  debased  and  polluted,  and  to- 
wards them  one  should  have  no  other  feelings  than  aver- 
sion and  disgust,  however  splendid  or  j)Owerful  is  the  ge- 
nius that  gilds  or  glorifies  them." 

6  81 


82  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  vill. 

This  is  partly  true  and  partly  false.  What  is  true  is 
very  true,  and  what  is  false  is  very  false.  The  moral  evil 
or  danger  in  such  cases,  does  not,  however,  arise  from  the 
fact  that  debasing  scenes  or  wicked  characters  are  made  to 
stand  or  move  before  the  imagination  ;  nor  again,  that 
hateful  passions  are  spoken  out  in  venomous  or  malignant 
words  ;  nor  that  wickedness  acts  itself  forth  with  complete 
and  consistent  energy.     It  still  remains  true  that : 

"  There  is  some  soul  of  goodness  in  things  evil, 
Would  men  observingly  distil  it  out."    . 

The  ground  of  moral  exposure  is  not  the  fact  that  evil 
is  painted,  nor  that  it  is  painted  boldly ;  but  it  is  in  the 
manner  in  which  it  is  represented, — whether  with  fidelity 
to  the  ordinances  of  nature,  or  falsely  to  her  eternal  laws 
as  written  on  the  heart  of  man.  This  will  be  determined 
in  a  great  measure  by  the  man  whose  imagination  reflects 
and  recreates  the  evil,  according  as  he  writes  like  a  Chris- 
tian, or  writes  like  a  Turk — like  a  man  with  a  conscience 
and  a  moral  nature,  or  like  a  man  who  makes  his  passions 
his  conscience,  and  his  will  his  God.  Prof.  F.  W.  New- 
man solidly  observes,  "  In  poetry,  as  in  all  other  writings, 
the  moral  influence  depends  on  its  throwing  our  sympathies 
aright  and  leaving  on  the  mind  fit  images  and  contempla- 
tions. Many  darker  passions  may  be  portrayed :  for  the 
pathos  which  we  seek  has  a  two-fold  character  like  the 
sublime  and  beautiful,  viz :  the  terrible  and  the  lovely. 
While  we  shudder  at  evil  passion,  it  cannot  make  us  worse. 
Demoralization  begins,  when  we  learn  to  sympathize  with 
it,  or  to  dwell  upon  things  over  whieh  it  is  healthful  to 
step  lightly." — [Lectures  on  Poeti'y,  i.)  This  difference  be- 
tween the  two  methods  of  depicting  evil  will  be  obvious  by 
one  or  two  examples. 

Satan,  as  described  by  Milton,  is  well  known  to  most 
readers.     He  is  justly  conceived  and  nobly  painted.    He  is 


Chap.  VIII.]  Imaginative  Literature,  83 

not  a  being  who  is  low  and  offensive  because  degraded  and 
brutish,  but  an  archangel  ruined,  once  possessed  of  the  in- 
tellect and  heart  of  a  seraph,  now  blasted  by  bad  ambition 
and  consumed  by  unrelenting  pride.  Every  feature  is  con- 
sistent with  this  conception.  His  will  is  as  inexorable  as 
that  of  Prometheus  nailed  to  the  Caucasian  rock.  The 
hatred  is  intense,  steadying  the  powers  by  unrelenting 
determination,  not  distracting  or  weakening  them  by  impo- 
tent rage.  The  cunning  is  masterly,  yet  dignified.  The 
passion  burns  like  a  red-hot  furnace,  and  the  words  speak 
out  the  inner  soul  with  the  energy  of  a  fierce  north-Avester. 
"  Better  reign  in  Hell  than  serve  in  Heaven,"  utters  and 
describes  his  character  and  ruling  principle.  Had  Milton 
painted  Satan  thus  and  only  thus,  he  had  given  but  half  his 
being,  as  well  as  glorified  him  with  splendors  too  attractive 
for  the  responsive  tastes  of  many  readers.  But  he  did  not 
leave  him  thus,  for  his  truthful  insight  taught  him,  that 
thus  described  and  only  thus,  he  were  no  real  fiend — no 
conceivable  being  of  any  species,  but  simply  the  half  of  an 
incomplete  conception — a  monster  by  defect.  He  therefore 
makes  him  confess  his  agony  in  such  words  as — 

"  Me  miserable  !  whicb  way  shall  I  fly 
Infinite  wrath  and  infinite  despair  ? 
Which  way  I  fly  is  hell — myself  am  Hell ! 
And  in  the  lowest  deep,  a  lower  deep, 
Still  threatening  to  devour  me,  opens  wide, 
To  whieh  the  hell  I  suffer  seems  a  heaven. 
0  then  at  last  relent :  is  there  no  place 
Left  for  repentance,  none  for  pardon  left  ? 
None  left  but  by  submission,  and  that  word 
Disdain  forbids  me  and  my  dread  of  shame." 

In  the  presence  of  his  old  compeer,  Zephon,  severe  in 
steadfast  allegiance  and  white  with  unstained  purity : — 

"  Abashed  the  Devil  stood, 
And  felt  how  awful  goodness  is,  and  saw 
Virtue  in  her  shape  how  lovely :  saw  and  pined 
His  loss ;  but  chiefly  to  find  here  observed 
His  lustre  impaired — yet  seemed 
Undaunted." 


84  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  VIIL 

He  descends  to  the  low  and  mean  disguise  of  a  filthy- 
reptile,  placing  liimself  at  the  ear  of  the  sleeping  Eve, 
"squat  like  a  toad,"  from  which  disguise,  when  touched 
by  the  spear  of  Ithuriel,  he  cannot  help  himself  but  he 
must  stand  forth  a  treacherous  tempter,  "  discovered  and 
surprised."  As  he  reports  to  his  associates  his  success  in  the 
ruin  of  man,  and  waits  with  confidence  for — 

"  Their  universal  shout  and  high  applause 
To  fill  his  car," 

there  rushes  in  upon  his  enraged  and  disappointed  soul 

"  On  all  sides,  from  innumerable  tongues, 
A  dismal  universal  hiss,  the  sound 
Of  public  scorn." 

The  completeness  and  truth  of  Milton's  picture  of  Satan 
is  in  striking  contrast  "with  the  Lucifer  of  Byron's  Cain, 
who  discourses  atheism  and  blasphemy  with  such  specious 
and  passionate  force  that  the  trusting  reader's  faith  in  God 
and  conscience  is  shaken  and  confounded,  and  it  is  well  if, 
with  heated  brain  and  unbelieving  heart,  or  passionate  and 
despairing  scorn,  he  does  not  plunge  himself  into  some  rash 
act  of  passion  or  crime ;  or,  having  done  so,  docs  not  sul- 
lenly turn  his  back  upon  hope,  and  cast  in  his  lot  with 
those  who  curse  God  and  die.  In  such  a  character  there 
is  but  half  the  truth,  and  therefore  truth  itself  is  dishonored 
and  belied.  Passion  is  painted  in  sublime  energy,  in  auda- 
cious daring,  with  impetuous  and  overbearing  ferocity.  So 
far  there  is  truth.  But  the  inward  shame  and  agony  are 
wanting;  and  most  important  of  all,  tlie  conscious  weak- 
ness of  selfishness  and  sin  that  are  self-confessed ;  the 
meanness  of  violating  gratitude,  fealty,  and  self-control ; 
all  of  which  should  be  present  and  made  prominent  to  ex- 
press and  impress  the  truth,  that  this  Lucifer,  with  all  his 
sophistry  and  pride,  with  his  boasting  and  his  blasphemy, 
inwardly  knows  that  he  has  sold  himself  to  a  falsehood. 


Chap.  VIII.]  Imaginative  Literature.  85 

Moreover,  in  the  absence  of  tliis  completing  half-truth — so 
far  as  the  poet's  representations  are  concerned — God  him- 
self is,  by  these  specious  and  passionate  reasonings,  made 
an  almighty  and  malignant  monster,  injustice  sits  upon  the 
eternal  throne,  and  the  universe  itself  is  pervaded  by  a 
gigantic  lie.  A  similar  defect  with  similar  evil  conse- 
quences, is  to  be  observed  in  the  Devil  of  Goethe's  Faust, 
except  that  the  metaphysics  are  more  profound  and  scholar- 
like, and  the  sneer  is  more  consummately  devilish  at  Avhat- 
ever  is  worthy  in  human  pursuit,  whatever  is  noble  in  human 
self-denial,  and  whatever  is  confiding  in  human  affection. 

We  observe  that  by  these  three  writers  the  same  bad 
character  is  depicted,  and  so  far  as  his  badness  is  con- 
cerned, witli  feelings,  words,  and  acts  that  are  consistent ; 
and  so  for,  witli  more  or  less  of  sesthetic  perfection.  In 
Milton  the  evil  is  harmless ;  it  is  even  morally  healthful, 
because,  with  the  attractions  and  force  of  evil,  the  weak- 
ness and  self-reproach,  the  shame  and  agony  are  alsa  repre- 
sented. With  Byron  and  Goethe,  the  diabolism  that  is 
dormant  in  man,  is  uppermost,  and  blasphemy,  selfishness 
and  lust  rule  in  the  univ^erse,  and  sit  upon  the  throne  of 
the  Eternal.  * 

We  might  also  <;ontrast  the  Hamlet  of  Shakspeare  with 
the  Manfred  of  Byron.  Hamlet  had  been  disappointed  of 
his -rightful  crown,  and  wronged  in  his  holiest  confidence, 
by  the  frailty  of  his  mother.  Disturbed  in  his  confidence 
in  man  and  in  God,  he  plots  a  murderous  revenge,  slays 
the  father  of  Ophelia,  and  spurns  and  treads  upon  her 

*  Wo  trust  that  none  of  our  over-fastidious  readers  will  sneer  at  our  recogni- 
tion of  the  "  diabolism  that  is  dormant  in  man."  It  was  suggested  by  the 
words  of  Sir  Thomas  Browne  :  "  The  heart  of  man  is  the  place  the  devils  dwell 
in.  I  feel  sometimes  a  hell  within  myself;  Lucifer  keeps  his  court  in  my 
breast ;  Legion  is  revived  in  me."  "  In  brief,  we  are  all  monsters — that  is,  a 
composition  of  man  and  beast ;  wherein  we  must  endeavor  to  be  as  the  poet's 
fancy  that  wise  man  Chiron,  that  is,  to  have  the  region  of  man  above  that  of 
beast,  and  sense  to  sit  but  at  the  feet  of  reason." — Religio  Medici. 


86  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.viii, 

gentle  and  loving  lieart.  Self-destruction  is  the  readiest 
relief  from  his  sufferings,  and  the  speediest  deliverance 
from  a  stage  of  existence  in  which  everything  is  "  out  of 
joint."  "  To  be  or  not  to  be,"  is  the  question  which  he 
debates  with  himself  in  thoughts  and  words  which  are 
forever  true  to  the  heart  of  man. 

"  To  die  ; — to  sleep, — 
No  more  ;  and  by  a  sleep,  to  say  we  end 
The  heart-ache,  and  the  thousand  natural  shocks 
That  flesh  is  heir  to, — 'tis  a  consummation 
Devoutly  to  be  wished.     To  die  ; — to  sleep ; — 
•  To  sleep  !    perchance  to  dream  ; — ay,  there's  the  rub  ; 

For  in  that  sleep  of  death  what  dreams  may  coma 
When  wo  have  shuffled  off  this  mortal  coil, 
Must  give  us  pause.     There's  the  respect 
That  makes  calamity  of  so  long  a  life ; 
For  who  would  bear  the  whips  and  scorns  of  time 

But  that  the  dread  of  something  after  death, — 
The  undiscovered  countrj',  from  whose  bourn 
No  traveler  returns, — puzzles  the  will ; 
And  makes  us  rather  bear  those  ills  wo  have, 
Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of. 
Thus  conscience  docs  make  cowards  of  us  all." 

Manfred  by  his  own  confession  is  far  more  guilty  than 
Hamlet.  His  guilt  he  does  not  hide,  he  spreads  it  abroad 
for  public  gaze,  but  rather  to  incite  the  sympathy  of  look- 
ers-on than  in  the  spirit  of  confession  and  shame.  Re- 
morse he  does  not  conceal,  but  he  gives  expression  to  it  too 
often  to  leave  the  impression  that  it  is  either  natuml  or 
sincere.  In  the  struggle  with  con.science  and  avenging 
spirits,  it  is  pride  not  conscience  which  prevails.  In  his 
exit  it  is  the  spirit  of  defiant  bravado  which  dismisses  him 
from  life.  The  weakness  and  fear  with  which  the  guilty, 
and  especially  the  confessed  victim  of  remoi'se,  looks  over 
into  the  life  beyond,  are  wholly  wanting.  Instead  thereof, 
this  mortal  who  by  crime  and  remorse  has  made  himself 
so  wretched  that  he  cares  to  live  no  longer  stalks  defiantly 


Chap.  VIII.]  Imaginative  lAterature.  87 

into  the  Unseen,  a  stupid  atheist,  successfully  defiant  of 
the  earth-spirit  that  comes  to  fetch  him  away,  yet  witliout 
a  thought  or  prayer  for  that  Greater  Spirit  whom  he  can- 
not avoid.  There  is  little  homage  to  conscience  here — it  is 
pride  and  self-will,  not  conscience  and  self-reproach,  that 
win  the  day.  The  timorous  weakness  that  comes  from 
sin,  the  coward  fear  that  looks  forward  to  the  undiscovered 
country,  are  not  expressed.  The  self-centred  though  suffer- 
ing criminal  triumphs  in  his  fiendish  pride.  Conscience  is 
not  the  victor,  but  conscience  is  vanquished  by  unbroken 
and  self-willed  pride.  * 

AYe  might  also  contrast  at  length  Bulwer  Lytton  and 
Scott.  We  mean  Bulwer  Lytton  in  his  earlier  novels,  the 
heroes  of  which  are  not  only  factitious  men  of  high  life, 
but  they  are  very  generally  intellectual  and  sentimental 
adulterers  and  libertines,  accomplished  withal  in  the  arts 
of  life  and  the  graces  of  society,  who  are  deeply  absorbed 
at  times  in  the  profoundest  speculations  concerning  God 
and  immortality,  intermixed  with  the  slang  of  high  life  at 
the  club  and  the  gambling-house.  These  all  quietly  ter- 
minate their  career  in  the  novelist's  heaven  of  reform,  wis- 
dom, and  wealth,  without  repentance  and  without  shame. 
They  are  without  a  human  conscience,  and  of  course 
monsters — doubly  monsters  by  the  splendid  accessories 
with  which  the  writer's  eloquence  and  power  has  contrived 
to  set  them  forth. 

The  healthy  and  truthful  mind  of  Scott  pould  not  de- 
pict, because  it  could  not  conceive,  the  possibility  of  such 
unnatural  human  creations.     Though  Scott  does  not  write 

*  We  find  since  writing  the  above  that  the  Rev.  F.  D.  Maurice,  in  his  re- 
cently published  "  Lectures  on  Casuistry,"  refers  to  Manfred,  as  "  that  wonder- 
ful play  of  the  conscience,"  and  couples  it  with  Macbeth  in  this  regard.  But 
in  our  judgment,  three  words  of  Lady  Macbeth  express  more,  of  both  aosthetic 
effect  and  moral  truth,  than  scores  of  lines  of  Manfred's  ambitious  self-flagella- 
tions. No  reader  would  care  to  change  places  with  the  one ;  but  there  are 
many  who  sympathize  with  Manfred  to  the  end,  and  suffer  no  recoil  of  horror. 


88  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  viii, 

in  a  professedly  ethical  spirit,  or  for  ethical  aims,  he  al- 
ways writes  with  ethical  truth.  Traditional  and  conven- 
tional prejudices  may  sometimes  bias  his  judgments  and 
representation  of  the  historical  characters  and  historic 
times  which  he  depicts  in  his  romances.  The  Cavalier 
and  Tory  writer  may  now  and  then  be  unjust  to  the  Cov- 
enanter and  the  Whig  of  whom  he  writes,  but  the  eternal 
distinctions  of^right  and  wrong  are  always  honored,  and 
the  responsive  emotions,  which  cannot  be  extinguished 
in  the  human  soul,  are  recognized  and  honored  with  a 
woman's  delicacy  of  sentiment.  Scott  may  not  always  make 
the  conscience  sufficiently  prominent  as  an  element  of  hu- 
man nature ;  he  may  not  always  give  room  and  space 
enough  to  man's  relations  to  the  unseen,  but  he  no  more 
thinks  of  describing  man  without  a  conscience,  than  with- 
out a  head,  and  he  would  as  soon  make  him  breathe  with- 
out the  air  as  live  without  a  God. 

Thackeray  and  Dickens  both  write  with  ethical  truth  so 
far  as  they  go.  The  satirical  tone  of  the  one,  and  the 
comic  humor  of  the  other,  may  in  a  certain  sense  interfere 
with  the  most  effective  lessons  of  either  human  sympathy 
or  ethical  earnestness.  Much  of  the  power  of  both  writers, 
however,  lies  in  the  recognition  by  the  one,  of  the  flimsi- 
ness  of  shams,  the  vulgarity  of  snobs,  and  the  emptiness 
of  pretentious  and  uncultured  fashion  ;  and  by  the  other, 
of  the  meanness  of  avarice,  the  sweetness  of  a  kindly  spirit, 
the  blessing  of  a  sunny  temper  and  the  dignity  of  patient 
beneficence. 

We  cannot  leave  unnoticed  the  relations  of  literature,  and 
especially  of  works  of  the  imagination,  to  the  virtue  of 
purity,  and  to  that  sensitiveness  and  reserve  which  are  at 
once  the  defence  and  ornament  of  the  weaker  sex.  Many 
are  offended  at  the  freedom  which  writers  like  Shakspeare 
and  Milton  use  in  their  portraitures  of  women,  and  at  the 
boldness  of  speech  with  which  they  unveil  the  mysteries 


Chap.  VIII.]  Imaginative  Literature,  89 

which  the  modesty  of  common  conversation,  or  even  of  un- 
imaginative writing,  rarely  approaches.  The  young  reader 
is  appalled  and  shocked  at  his  first  acquaintance  with  not 
a  few  passages  in  both  these  writers.  Perhaps  he  concludes 
that  it  is  an  offence  against  morality  to  have  written  or  to 
read  them.  He  cannot  persuade  himself  that  they  do  not 
offend  against  modesty,  and  if  they  offend  against  modesty, 
surely  they  must  be  condemned  in  the  court  of  conscience. 
Scruples  like  these  disquiet  many  older  persons  who  feel  a 
stain  of  impurity  as  a  wound,  and  who  would  prefer  to 
throw  their  Milton  and  Shakspeare  into  the  fire  than  to 
offend  their  sense  of  right.  To  meet  the  scruples  of  such, 
the  Family  Shakspeare  has  been  provided,  and  an  expur- 
gated Milton  has  very  probably  been  thought  of.  The 
question  is  a  fair  one,  Why  are  these  scruples  unfounded? 
why  are  these  great  writers  not  rejected  as  impure,  when 
others  perhaps  less  gross  in  speech  are  properly  condemned? 
So  far  as  these  writers  are  concerned,  we  may  say  in  answer, 
that  the  language  of  a  writer  may  be  free  and  seemingly 
gross,  and  yet  the  purity  of  nature  may  be  observed ;  for 
nature  is  not  a  ^vhit  of  a  prude,  and  those  who  write  with 
genius  must  follow  nature  Avherever  she  leads.  ^^But 
nature,  though  not  a  prude,  is  modest  and  chaste."  True, 
yet  still  it  is  possible  that  in  conformity  with  the  freedom 
of  the  times  of  a  writer,  there  should  be  much  in  language 
that  is  gross,  and  yet  nothing  be  expressed  that  tends  to  in- 
flame and  excite  lascivious  passion.  With  all  the  freedoms  of 
Shakspeare  and  Milton,  there  are  few  or  no  artful  addresses 
to  those  desires  that  were  made  to  be  sternly  controlled. 
There  is  little  luscious  and  honeyed  speech,  like  that  of 
Moore  or  Byron,  in  which  genius  ministers  directly  at  the 
altar  of  lust,  and  all  the  more  effectively  and  shamelessly 
when  her  robe  is  studiously  modest  to  excess,  and  her 
language  to  the  ear,  is  as  pure  as  Diana's. 

In  the  Scriptures  both  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New, 


90  Books  and  Beading.  [Chap,  viii- 

there  are  not  a  few  passages  which  to  the  mind  and  car  seem 
and  sound  immodest,  but  there  is  nothing  that  is  fitted  to 
excite  lascivious  passion  or  to  gratify  prurient  desire; 
nothing  which  is  in  the  least  akin  to  that  which  constitutes 
the  chief  interest  of  both  plot  and  character  in  scores  of 
modern  novels  in  which  adultery,  jealousy,  and  lust  are 
the  prominent  themes ;  in  which  the  skill  of  the  writers, 
often,  unhappily,  women,  is  expended  in  artfully  suggest- 
ing pictures  which  they  dare  not  paint,  and  stimulating 
curiosity  by  the  suggestion  of  passions  which  it  is  indecent 
to  name.  A  lawyer  in  a  recent  trial  in  which  the  question 
turned  on  the  moral  tendency  of  a  novel  represented  to  be 
impure,  recited  a  long  passage  from  JSIilton  to  show  that 
nothing  could  be  more  indecent, — and  that  therefore  no 
freedom  of  speech  in  a  man  of  genius  could  be  open  to  this 
charge.  We  are  not  forced,  in  order  to  justify  or  define 
what  we  consider  the  true  criterion,  to  defend  every  passage 
of  Milton,  but  we  assert  that  he  very  rarely  introduces  any 
theme  or  dwells  on  it  more  broadly  than  the  necessities  of 
his  subject  require,  and  that  he  never  gratuitously  or  direct- 
ly, seeks  to  stimulate  or  excuse  licentious  passion.  We 
cannot  perhaps  assert  so  much  for  Shakspeare.  Some  of 
his  minor  poems  cannot  be  defended  by  the  warmth  of 
youth  or  the  general  freedom,  even  the  grossncss,  of  the 
times.  But,  in  general,  when  we  have  bated  from  his  plays, 
those  passages  which  may  have  been  interpolated  by  actors 
to  please  the  groundlings  of  the  pit,  there  is  remarkable 
purity  of  tone — we  may  say  chasteness  of  feeling,  even  in 
what  to  the  ear  is  broad  and  free.  In  respect  to  the  higlier  I 
attributes  of  woman,  nothing  can  surpass  the  delicacy  of  \ 
Iris  conceptions,  or  the  elevating  purity,  we  might  almost  ^ 
\  say  the  vestal  chastity  of  his  thought  and  feeling.  If  we 
compare  him  with  the  poets,  and  especially  with  the  drama- 
tists of  his  time,  with  Ben  Jonson  at  their  head — the  most 
learned,  who  ought  to  have  been  the  most  civilized — he 


r 


Chap.  viiL]  Imogincdwe  Literature.  91 

shines  by  the  contrast  with  a  radiance  that  surprises  and 
delights  tlie  fair-minded  critic.  Dryden,  the  great  leader 
of  the  next  generation,  with  Shakspeare  as  an  example  to 
guide  and  elevate  him,  whom  he  both  studied  and  criticized, 
deliberately  wallows  in  a  slough  not  only  of  grossness  of 
speech,  but  of  indecency  and  licentiousness  in  sentiment 
and  intent. 

From  these  examples  we  think  can  be  derived  a  canon 
which  will  enable  even  the  most  unpractised  person  to  de- 
termine what  is  pure  or  impure  in  imaginative  literature. 

"A  writer,  from  what  avc  call  the  grossness  or  freedom  of 
the  times  in  which  he  lived,  may  be  gross  in  language,  and 
even  in  description  and  allusion,  and  yet  not  be  impure. 
He  may  also  introduce  in  writing,  if  his  plot  or  character 
or  theme  requires  it,  both  scenes  and  descriptions  which  it 
may  not  be  pleasant  to  recite  or  read  in  a  drawing-room. 
Sometimes  he  must  do  this,  or  his  picture  would  not  be 
complete,  or  his  character  consistent.  But  he  may  never 
enact  the  part  of  the  tempter  to  evil,  either  by  soliciting 
or  excusing  passion.  Whoever  does  this,  is  a  licentious 
writer,  whatever  be  the  refinement  of  his  allusions,  or  the 
euphemisms  of  his  speech.  Whoever  goes  beyond  this, 
and  makes  the  chief  interest  and  excitement  of  his  tale  or 
character  to  depend  on  the  attractiveness  of  sin,  without 
its  shame  and  sorrow,  is  often  a  more  serious  offender, 
just  in  proportion  to  the  refinement  of  his  double  entendres 
and  the  studied  propriety  of  his  descriptions.  That  modern 
literature,  in  both  fiction  and  poetry,  is  often  indecent,  even 
when  it  seeks  to  be  exquisitely  refined,  is  too  notorious  to 
be  denied  or  overlooked." 

"  It  is  very  remarkable,"  says  F.  W.  Newman,  "  that  while 
the  ancient  theory  concerning  the  relation  of  the  sexes  was  at 
best  deficient  and  at  worst  very  base ;  while  the  abundance 
of  slave  women  and  freed  Avomen,  and  the  unchallenged 
rightfulness  of  slavery,  depressed  the  best  men's  notions  of 


92  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  VIIL 

the  rights  of  women ;  yet  in  their  highest  poets  there  is 
less  than  in  our  own  that  can  minister  to  voluptuousness, 
even  in  Homer  and  Virgil  than  in  Milton  and  Spenser. 
But  here  also  Walter  Scott  is  admirable.  He  has  an  un- 
failing sweetness  of  heart,  full-charged  with  the  morality  of 
the  future." — (Lecture  i.) 

A  sharp  humorist  in  Blackwood's  Magazine  is  not  at  all 
too  severe  in  the  following,  which  purports  to  be  an  item 
in  his  last  Will  and  Testament.  "  My  sense  of  Decency 
and  Decorum,  my  dislike  to  details  of  the  Divorce  Court 
and  the  general  annals  of  prurient  living — I  leave  to  the 
lady-novelists,  whose  utter  destitution  in  this  respect  moves 
pity  and  compassion ;  and  I  appeal  to  all  those  who  have 
any  qualities,  even  worn  ones,  of  regard  for  cleanliness  of 
life  and  decency  of  demeanor,  not  to  forget  creatures  so 
utterly  bereft  of  these  gifts,  and  to  whom  even  the  rags  of 
virtue  would  prove  an  unspeakable  luxury." 

A  generation  cannot  be  entirely  pure  which  tolerates 
writers  who,  like  Walt  Whitman,  commit,  in  writing,  an 
offence  like  that  indictable  at  common  law  of  walking 
naked  through  the  streets,  and  excuse  it  under  the  pretence 
that  '■  Mature  is  always  modest."  Nor  can  such  a  writer 
as  this  be  successfully  defended,  even  by  Emerson,  if 
he  regards  one  of  his  own  maxims,  that  "  Nature  is 
severely  chaste."  That  literary  catholicity  must  be  too 
broad  .  for  those  who  "  can  afford  to  keep  a  conscience," 
which  excuses  or  applauds  such  lecherous  priests  of  Venus 
as  Algernon  Swinburne,  or  would  palliate  not  merely  his 
enormous  offences  in  the  service  of  pa&sion,  but  his  more 
shameless  defiance  of  the  remonstrances  of  those  whom  he 
offends.  Let  the  imagination  of  such  writers  be  ever  so 
brilliant  and  their  diction  ever  so  enchanting,  the  altar  at 
which  they  serve  is  that  of  harlotry  and  polhition. 

Lest  it  should  be  thought  that  these  remarks  are  too 
sweeping,   we   would   refer  to  one   or  t^v•o  reasons  why 


Chap.  viiL]  Imaginative  Literature.  93 

authors  may  sometimes  be  more  refined  in  their  tastes  than 
tlieir  works  would  indicate,  and  why  critics  in  literature 
and  students  of  books  are  less  sensitive  than  unpracticed 
readers  in  respect  to  certain  freedoms  of  allusion  and  of 
treatment.  To  critics  and  authors,  the  matter  may  be  one 
of  simple  psychological  development  and  study,  while  to  the 
person  whose  sensitive  imagination  responds  with  vivid  in- 
terest to  every  successful  representation,  the  delineation  of 
passion  may  be  fraught  with  sophistical  or  seductive 
power.  One  who  is  fortified  by  the  varied  experiences  of 
life,  or  whose  passions  are  cooled  by  age,  or  controlled  by 
habits  of  duty,  may  safely  visit  scenes  and  have  to  do  with 
persons  which  would  be  dangerous  to  those  younger  and 
more  inexperienced.  The  residents  of  a  large  city  must  of 
necessity  come  in  sight  of  evil,  to  the  attractions  of  which 
the  stranger  from  the  country  has  not  become  insensible. 
The  physician,  who  is  strong  in  health  and  hardened  by 
custom,  inhales  with  impunity  the  offensive  and  deadly  air 
of  contagion,  without  being  even  sensible  of  its  nauseous 
and  dangerous  quality.  The  habitue  of  a  dissecting-room, 
who  in  more  than  one  respect  may  be  likened  to  a  literary 
critic,  is  so  used  in  all  his  senses  to  every  form  of  morbid 
anatomy,  that  he  sometimes  forgets  that  what  is  rightfully 
most  offensive  to  others  has  ceased  to  be  so  to  himself. 
Perhaps  in  this  way  we  may  explain  why  it  is  that  certain 
imaginative  writers,  whose  aims  are  usually  pure  and  ele- 
vated, and  whose  tastes  are  sensitive  and  refined,  sometimes 
introduce  scenes  and  personages  that  offend  right-minded 
and  right-hearted  readers,  and  why  critics  of  the  severest 
ethical  tastes  not  infrequently  tolerate  what  deserves  repro- 
bation. We  can  understand  why  a  writer  who  could  han- 
dle such  "extra-hazardous  characters"  as  are  introduced  in 
"  Peg  Woffington "  with  such  delicacy  and  even  ethical 
truth,  should  excite  offence  by  those  in  "  Griffith  Gaunt," 
and  why  in  respect  to  the  ethical  influence  of  the  latter 


94  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.viii. 

work  there  should  fail  to  be  entire  unanimity  of  dissatis- 
faction. The  professional  insensibility  of  a  practiced  litter- 
ateur is  however  scarcely  an  adequate  explanation  or 
excuse  for  the  proclivities  of  such  a  writer  as  the  author  of 
"  New  America  "  and  "  Spiritual  Wives."  The  pruriency 
of  not  a  little  modern  literature  is  a  sad  sign  of  degeneracy 
of  taste  and  of  tone  in  certain  circles  which  pride  themselves 
upon  their  excessive  refinement  of  taste  and  their  secure 
elevation  above  the  ordinary  weaknesses  and  responsibilities 
of  humanity  as  well  as  above  the  received  maxims  of  pro- 
priety, not  to  say  of  decency  in  the  relation  of  the  sexes. 

This  variety  of  opinion  and  practice  makes  even  more 
imperative  the  rule  which  we  have  laid  down,  that  Avhat 
oifends  one's  moral  tastes,  or  is  condemned  by  one's  moral 
judgment,  should  be  uncompromisingly  rejected.  No 
freetlom  of  practice  or  opinion  on  the  part  of  others  should 
be  allowed,  as  against  this  law  for  the  individual  conduct. 
While  there  is  force  in  the  maxim,  "  To  the  pure  all  things 
are  pure,"  there  is  truth  in  the  proverb,  "What  is  one 
man's  meat  is  another  man's  poison ;"  and  there  is  no 
poison  so  deadly,  as  there  is  none  which  is  so  insidious  and 
tenacious,  as  the  poison  which  defiles  the  imagination  by 
means  of  licentious  literature.  That  young  man  does  a 
better  thing  than  he  knows  of  for  his  conscience,  his  char- 
acter, and  his  manhood,  who  resolutely  throws  into  the  fire 
a  book  which  he  finds  to  be  bad,  even  though  it  is  bad 
only  for  him ;  and  that  young  lady  serves  her  conscience, 
and  womanliness  too,  who  does  the  same  with  any  book 
which  should  cause  her  to  blush  to  herself  that  she  has  not 
done  it  before. 

Leaving  this  topic,  we  are  prepared  also  to  draw  a  still 
broader  induction  in  respect  to  the  general  moral  influence 
of  imaginative  writers.  It  certainly  is  not  required  that  a 
writer  be  morally  pure,  and  even  morally  elevating,  that 
he  should  point — or  rather  blunt — every  sentiment,  tale,  or 


rffAp.vlH.]  Imaginative  Idterafure.  95 

poem  with  a  moral.  Nor  is  it  necessary  that  the  writer 
tjhould  at  ftlJ  times  maintain  a  preaching  tone,  in  order  to 
be  moral,  or  even  in  order  to  be  Christian.  All  books 
ought  not  to  preach  at  all  times  ;  no  more  should  all  men, 
evcTi  if  preaching  is  their  proper  vocation.  Too  much 
preaching  diminishes  or  mars  the  effect  of  good  preaching, 
when  preaching  is  required;  much  more  is  it  to  be  avoided 
if  the  preaching  is  not  of  the  best  quality,  as  it  rarely  can 
be,  in  a  story  dt  poem. 

The  obtrusion  of  religious  or  ethical  aims  characterizes 
the  so-called  Tendenz-roman  of  the  Germans,  and  the 
Novel  of  purpose  or  the  Doctrinal  Novel  of  the  English. 
These  are  generally  characterized  by  a  single  defect,  and 
that  is,  that  when  the  purpose  or  tendency  is  moral  it  is 
usually  so  obtrusive  or  embarrassing  as  to  weaken  the 
imaginf^tive  character  of  the  work,  and  thus  to  hinder  or 
destroy  its  power  to  be  morally  useful.  A  tale  or  poem 
thut  is  constructed  for  the  single  aim  of  enforcing  an  ethi- 
cal or  religious  truth,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  suffers  mate- 
nally  as  a  tale  or  a  poem.  It  is  then  by  no  means  essen- 
tial that  the  ethical  aim  of  the  writer  should  be  apparent, 
nor  even  that  he  should  write  with  an  aim  that  is  distinc- 
'tively  ethical  at  all,  in  order  that  he  be  both  ethically  use- 
ful and  ethically  pure. 

Nor,  again,  is  it  necessary  in  order  that  literature  be  in- 
tensely and  in  the  best  sense  ethical,  that  bad  scenes,  bad 
characters,  bad  sentiments,  and  bad  passions,  should  not  be 
introduced,  and,  when  rcpresentcxl,  should  not  be  con- 
sistently and  forcibly  described — giving  to  sin  all  the 
dignity  and  beauty  and  attractions  which  it  may  lawfully 
claim,  else  the  mirror  were  not  held  up  to  nature.  What 
we  contend  for  is  simjily  that  the  mirror  should  be  held  up 
to  nature  as  it  is,  only  with  magnified  proportions.  Now 
nature,  i.  e.,  human  nature,  is  intensely  ethical  ;  she  re- 
cognizes conscience,  not  always  in  her  actions  indeed,  but 


06  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  vill. 

always  in  her  convictions ;  she  requires  judgment  and  re- 
tribution too,  at  least  within  the  domain  where  shame  and 
self-reproach  abide ;  she  forgives  indeed,  but  never  without 
repentance,  never  to  those  who  glory  in  wrong  or  hatred, 
in  selfishness  or  shame.  It  is  just  when,  and  just  because, 
the  mirror  is  not  held  up  to  nature,  that  there  is  moral 
danger,  and  often  moral  death ;  and  the  danger  is  exactly 
in  proportion  to  the  power  of  genius  to  glorify  or  excuse 
the  distorted  and  unnatural  images  which  Vt  reflects/  It  is 
when  the  magic  mirror  which  genius  has  always  at  com- 
mand, is  no  longer  a  mirror  of  truth — reflecting  tlie  shame, 
the  corruption,  and  the  remorse  of  sin  as  well  as  Jts  glory, 
its  short-lived  triumph  and  its  joy — but  the  lying  glass  in 
which  the  harlot  is  set  forth  as  a  vestal,  the  fiend  as  a  lov- 
ing angel,  and  the  atheist  as  an  adoring  seraph,  that  genius 
becomes  one  of  the  mightiest  agents  for  evil,  by  bewilder- 
ing the  imagination,  confusing  the  judgment,  and  leading 
captive  the  passions  of  an  admiring  generation. 

In  discussing  the  ethical  criteria  of  imaginative  writers 
and  their  works,  we  have  in  fact  considered  the  ethical 
characteristics  of  all  sorts  of  literature.  We  repeat  the 
thought  without  hesitation,  that  literature  as  literature,  in- 
variably acts  upon  and  addresses  the  imagination.  In  one 
word,  all  literature  so  far  as  it  is  literature  proper  is  ima- 
ginative. Literature  does  indeed  enlarge  our  store  of  facts, 
and  in  this  way  gives  what  is  called  information  or  know- 
ledge ;  but  if  what  we  learn  docs  not  excite  us  to  recreate, 
either  for  delight  to  the  feelings  or  for  application  to  use, 
the  facts  and  information  which  it  imparts  are  as  dry  and 
barren  as  the  tables  of  a  book  of  logarithms  or  the  rows  of 
figures  in  an  old  ledger.  Literature  also  reasons  with  us 
and  convinces  of  truth,  but  if  the  truth  is  not  recast  and 
used  to  interpret  nature  or  direct  the  life,  wherein  is  its 
value  ?  But  if  used  in  either  of  these  ways,  it  acts  upon  the 
imagination.     It  will  be  found  moreover  that  all  history, 


Chap.  VIII.]  Imaginative  Literoiure.  97 

all  reasoning,  all  eloquence,  and  all  positive  knowledge 
whatever,  are  more  or  less  imaginative,  and  are  fitted 
either  to  exercise  and  stimulate,  and  consequently  to  ele- 
vate or  degrade  the  imagination.  Literature  in  all  these 
higher  relations  must  therefore  be  ethically  good  or  ethi- 
cally bad.  It  cannot  be  morally  indiflFerent.  It  must  be 
healthful  or  injurious. 

The  imagination  forms  and  controls  the  conscience  so 
far  as  it  forms  and  enforces  the  ideals  of  what  we  can  and 
ought  to  become.  The  ideals  which  it  actually  forms  and 
enforces  must  inevitably  raise  us  upward  or  drag  us  down- 
ward. Literature  in  all  its  products,  as  history,  essay, 
oration,  or  argument,  modifies  and  energizes  these  ideals — 
entering  into  all  by  an  unobserved  but  most  potent  in- 
fluence. This  influence  is  especially  subtle  and  effective 
when  the  imaginative  element  gives  character  and  name 
to  the  product,  i.  e.,  when,  as  poein,  novel,  or  drama,  it 
stimulates  and  directly  addresses  this  controlling  power. 
It  follows  that  all  those  ethical  criteria  and  rules  by  which 
we  estimate  and  use  confessedly  imaginative  writers,  apply 
as  properly  to  every  department  of  literature. 

There  is  a  very  abundant  class  of  writings  that  are  some- 
times denominated  cheap  literature,  which,  only  by  courte- 
sy, deserve  to  be  called  literature  at  all.  It  is  a  class 
somewhat  miscellaneous  and  comprehensive,  consisting  as 
it  does  of  novels,  novelettes,  journals,  and  newspapers,  in 
which  so-called  stories  abound.  Of  many  of  these  produc- 
tions nothing  worse  can  be  said — though  that  is  bad 
enough — than  that  they  are  utterly  frivolous  and  vapid, 
that  they  while  away  the  time,  and  interest  the  feelings, 
but  neither  elevate  the  tastes  nor  brighten  the  life.  They 
are  simply  a  reflex  of  the  commonplace  aims  and  the 
vulgar  feelings  of  the  mass  of  readers  for  whom  they  are 
written.  They  are  made  to  take  and  made  to  aell,  and 
they  both  tahe  and  sell,  because   they  humor   what   their 


98  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  viii. 

readers  like,  in  respect  to  characters,  incidents,  illustra- 
tions, and  style. 

Mucli  of  this  sort  of  literature  is  open  to  the  more  seri- 
ous objection,  that  it  stimulates  and  inflames  tlie  passions, 
ignores  or  misleads  the  conscience,  and  studiously  presents 
views  of  life  that  are  fundamentally  false.  The  lower  ap- 
petites are  often  directly  addressed,  or  their  indulgence  is 
indirectly  justified  through  the  gravity  that  becomes  a  book, 
and  the  sophistical  art  which  every  writer  must  use  to  keep 
for  himself  and  his  reader  the  semblance  of  a  becoming 
self-respect.  Writings  of  this  class  lead  men  to  believe 
that  they  can  be  rich  without  toil  and  saving ;  that  they 
can  be  amiable  and  attractive,  and  yet  be  intensely  hypo- 
critical and  selfish ;  that  they  can  have  exquisite  moral 
sensibilities  and  lofty  moral  aspirations,  and  yet  be  de- 
based by  appetite  and  passion ;  that  they  can  be  profanely 
blasphemous,  and  yet  fervently  religious ;  in  short,  that 
they  can  be  successful  for  the  present  and  future  life,  with- 
out complying  with  a  single  condition  of  success  for  either. 

And  they  find  readers,  too — ^scores,  hundreds,  thousands, 
myriads  of  readers.  Yes,  of  myriads  they  constitute  the 
sole  reading.  The  man  of  business,  whose  tastes  are  low 
and  whose  aims  are  vulgar,  reads  them  when  ho  lays  down 
his  favorite  newspaper — too  often  like  them — and  he  be- 
comes more  intensely  mean  and  animalized  than  before; 
the  clerk  reads  them,  and  they  furnish  him  with  the  slang 
of  his  loose  conversation,  or  train  him  to  rob  his  master's 
drawer,  or  tamper  with  his  accounts,  that  he  may  visit  the 
gambling-house  and  the  brotiiel.  The  silly  and  unpro- 
tected girl  roads  them,  and  she  is  ripened  by  them  to  yield 
to  the  flatteries  of  her  seducer.  The  neglected  boy  reads 
them,  and  they  make  him'  an  incendiary  or  a  pirate,  a 
hater  of  law  and  a  despiser  of  God.  They  are  the  Bible 
and  the  Primer  to  myriads  of  the  rising  generation  at  this 
very  hour.     One  can  never  see  a  bale  of  books  or  papers 


Chap.  VIII.]  Imaffinative  lAteraiure.  95 

of  this  sort  without  thinking,  there  goes  a  package  of  the 
seeds  of  robbery  and  lust.  It  were  almost  better  to  im- 
port living  lecturers  in  behalf  of  sensualism  and  crime, 
and  furnish  them  with  pulpit  and  hall,  for  then  we  should 
have  the  disgusting  facts  of  sin  to  give  the  lie  to  its  flatter- 
ing words.  It  were  almost  no  worse  that  a  procession  of 
harlots  should  walk  the  streets  of  every  city  or  village,  for 
these  would  bear  the  brand  of  their  own  shame  upon  their 
foreheads. 

But  are  not  these  books  brilliant?  Yes,  brilliant  as  a 
rotten  log,  or  a  putrescent  carcass,  which  shine  because  ' 
they  are  decayed,  and  are  phosphorescent  just  in  proportion 
as  they  are  offensive.  But  do  they  not  sparkle  and 
delight?  Yes,  just  as  the  will-o'-wisp,  which  is  created  of 
foul  gases,  and  leads  the  silly  pursuer  through  brush  and  V 
brier,  till  it  lands  him  in  some  miry  swamp,  or  chokes  him 
with  the  damps  of  death.  No  language  can  describe  the 
influence  of  this  so-called  literature  in  degiTiding  the  tastes, 
in  weakening  or  corrupting  the  principles,  and  in  pro- 
voking the  passions.  No  man  can  easily  estimate  the  evil 
consequences  that  are  to  come  «f  it,  in  a  character  at  once 
frivolous,  conceited,  and  vulgar,  or  sensual,  ferocious,  and. 
atheistic. 

It  is  grateful  to  turn  from  this  painful  picture  to  a 
higher  and  better  kind  of  popular  literature  which  we  be- 
lieve to  be  gaining  a  surer  hold  and  a  widening  influence. 
While  with  one  class  of  readers  there  is  certain  degradation, 
as  there  must  be  with  forces  so  active  as  to  carry  them 
downwards,  with  another  there  is  a  steady  and  progressive 
elevation,  as  there  are  books  to  foster  such  an  improve- 
ment. 

Such  are  the  histories  which  attract  and  instruct;  the 
biographies  which  leave  a  glow  in  the  minds  of  their 
readers ;  the  poetry  that  is  both  popular  and  elevating ;  the 
criticism  that  discerns  undiscovered  beauties  in  our  favor- 


100  Books  and  Heading.  [Chap.  viil. 

ite  authors ;  the  travels  that  almost  reconcile  us  to  the  ne- 
cessity that  forbids  us  to  wander ;  and  the  tales  that  spar- 
kle without  corrupting,  and  that  let  us  laugh  and  still  be 
wise. 

It  is  still  more  grateful  to  imagine  the  time  when  Books 
and  Reading  for  the  people  shall  become  altogether  good 
in  their  influence;  when  their  agency,  which  is  to  the 
health  of  the  mind  what  the  atmosphere  Ls  to  that  of  the 
body,  shall  be  like  a  fine  June  or  October  morning ;  in- 
vigorating, exciting,  inspiring — an  atmosphere  in  whose 
breath  is  no  poison,  detected  or  concealed ;  no  seeds  of 
plague,  neither  the  rank  and  offensive  nor  the  delightful 
but  deadly. 

Such  a  literature  would  be  both  flower  and  fruit  of  a 
perfected  Christian  civilization,  and  in  that  sense  a  truly 
Christian  literature.  But  what  is  the  just  conception  of 
a  Christian  literature  has  been  a  matter  of  some  question. 
The  conception  itself  is  also  not  easy  in  all  respects  to  de- 
fine ;  we  must  therefore  defer  the  consideration  of  it  to  a 
separate  discussion. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  RELIGIOUS   CHARACTER  AND   INFLUENCE  OF   BOOKS 
AND  READING. 

From  the  moral,  we  proceed  to  the  religious  relations 
of  books  and  reading.  The  two  are  very  nearly  allied, 
and  yet  each  requires  to  be  discussed  apart  from  the  other. 

Their  affinity  suggests  similar  criteria  in  judging  of 
books,  and  similar  rules  in  using  them.  As  the  law  of 
duty  is  in  its  very  nature  supreme,  so  the  sanctions  of  re- 
ligion are,  by  their  very  sacredness,  inviolable.  As  what 
we  obey  from  conscience  should  be  obeyed  without  reserve, 
so  what  we  reverence  as  divine  must  be  worshiped 
without  a  rival.  Duty  gives  law  in  all  relations  and  to 
every  kind  of  action,  and  religion  asserts  attractions  which 
outshine  and  exclude  rivals  of  every  sort,  even  in  the 
forms  of  culture,  art,  or  literature. 

We  have  seen  that  whatever  in  books  or  reading  weak- 
ens the  conscience  or  corrupts  the  moral  feelings,  should  be 
rejected  as  evil.  By  the  same  rule,  it  follows  that  what- 
ever in  either  hinders  or  depresses  the  religious  life  should 
be  scrupulously  avoided.  The  religious  nature,  though  it 
is  sanctioned  and  controlled  by  the  conscience,  is  more 
sensitive  than  the  conscience  itself.  It  feels  a  stain  like  a 
wound,  not  merely  as  doing  violence  to  the  most  sensitive 
emotions,  but  as  involving  dishonor  to  the  objects  and  per- 
sons hallowed  for  its  worship  and  trust.  If,  then,  we  con- 
verse with  any  book,  or  practice  any  reading  which  con- 
sciously interfere  with  our  religious  faith  or  fervor,  we 
should  dismiss  the  one  and  desist  from  the  other  without 
hesitation  or  compromise. 

101 


102  Boohs  and  Heading.  [Chap,  ix. 

This  rule  applies  both  to  faith  and  feeling,  the  two  ele- 
ments of  the  religious  life.  AVhatever  in  literature  dis- 
turbs or  weakens  our  faith,  injures  us  in  a  vital  point,  in- 
asmuch as  it  cuts  oif  or  dries  up  the  fountain  of  life. 
Whatever  disturbs  or  shocks  the  religious  emotions,  intro- 
duces discord  into  the  harmony  of  the  highest  and  best 
sensibilities.  This  rule  is  very  general,  and,  so  to  speak, 
is  entirely  formal.  It  neither  provides  for  nor  regulates 
its  own  application.  Whether  or  not  the  effect  or  the 
tendency  of  a  particular  book,  or  the  reading  of  an  author 
or  a  class  of  writings,  is  good,  evil,  or  indifferent  in  these 
respects,  must  be  decided  by  every  man  for  himself. 
Books  that  are  harmless  or  useful  to  one  man,  may  be  in- 
jurious to  another.  Reading  which  is  useful  to  the  relig- 
ious life  of  one,  may  be  worse  than  useless  to  that  of  an- 
other. Every  reader  who  is  capable  of  independent  judg- 
ment must  decide  for  himself.  Those  whose  judgments 
are  immature,  or  whose  tastes  are  unformed,  should  ask 
advice  of  those  whom  they  have  learned  to  trust. 

AVe  cannot  overlook  or  deny  the  fact  that  the  religious 
faith  of  some  men  is  perversely  narrow,  bigoted,  and  posi- 
tive; while  that  of  others  is  broad,  lax,  and  uncertain. 
The  religious  feelings  of  one  are  gloomy  and  depressing ; 
those  of  another  are  irreverent  and  presumptuous.  But 
■whatever  the  faith  and  feelings  are,  they  constitute  the  re- 
ligious life  of  the  individual  ;  and  this  life  is,  for  him, 
sacred  and  supreme,  whether  it  is  strong  or  weak,  whether 
it  is  well  or  ill  controlled.  The  effect  of  books  and  read- 
ing upon  each  individual  can  be  measured  and  estimated 
best  by  himself 

We  must  also  assume  and  concede  tliat  the  faith  of 
every  man  should  be  founded  upon  reason,  after  weigh- 
ing the  arguments  for  and  against  its  conclusions.  The 
duty  to  read  books  of  argument  or  evidence  for  or  against 
our  creed,  it  falls  not  within  our  plan  to  discuss  or  to  en- 


Chap.  IX.]  Tneir  Religious  Oiaracter.  103 

force.  This  subject  belongs  obviously  to  the  debatable 
and  vexed  department  of  polemics,  and  tends  so  directly 
to  awaken  special  jealousies  as  properly  to  be  excluded 
from  consideration.  It  would  be  nothing  less  than  dis- 
courteous, if  indeed  it  were  nothing  more,  to  assume  or  im- 
ply that  the  faith  and  worship  of  any  one  of  our  readers 
were  not  the  products  of  thought  and  reflection — were  nctt 
commended  to  his  conscience  and  justified  by  his  reason. 

All  these  things  being  assumed  and  conceded,  we  re-as- 
sert with  greater  emphasis,  that  whatever  in  books  and 
reading,  whatever  in  literary  enjoyment  or  culture,  hinders 
the  religious  activity  or  lowers  the  tone  of  religious  faith 
and  feeling,  should  be  abandoned  at  the  cost  of  any  pain 
or  sacrifice.  We  assert  with  equal  confidence,  that  every 
man  must  judge  for  himself  what  in  fact  hinders  or  helps 
him  in  this  regard.  We  insist  also,  that  in  many  cases  a 
book  may  seriously  hinder  the  religious  life  by  lowering 
the  tone  of  faith  and  feeling,  even  if  it  does  not  lead  to 
avowed  unbelief,  to  hesitating  skepticism,  or  bold  irrever- 
ence. If  we  may  not  safely  yield  ourselves  to  the  personal 
influence  of  an  unbelieving  or  irreverent  man,  Ave  should 
for  the  same  or  still  stronger  reasons,  hesitate  to  expose 
ourselves  to  the  sophistries  or  scoffings  of  a  fascinating 
writer  who  is  atheistic  or  profane.  Indeed,  the  fascina- 
tions of  a  bad  man  are  less  ensnaring  than  those  of  a  bad 
book  which  is  written  with  brilliancy  and  power.  A  man 
who  is  atheistic  and  profane  may,  it  is  true,  be  dangerous- 
ly attractive  from  the  force  and  fascinations  of  his  very 
presence  and  the  charms  of  his  conversation  ;  but  he  must 
also  be  repellent  to  sensitive  natures,  from  the  defiant  hard- 
ness which  usually  attends  upon  wilful  unbelief,  and  thfi 
selfish  heartlessness  which  commonly  lurks  behind  irrever- 
ent feeling,  however  refined  may  be  the  culture  or  polished 
the  manners.  But  in  a  book  these  defects  and  repellencies 
are  not  so  obvious,  and  hence  the  poison  to  the  soul  may 


104  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  ix. 

be  the  more  readily  conveyed,  for  the  very  reason  that  it 
is  not  so  obtrusive  to  the  perceptions.  The  powerful  or 
brilliant  genius  that  knows  how  to  heighten  those  ideal 
attractions  which  altogether  surpass  any  impersonated 
charms,  is  equally  skilful  in  suppressing  that  offensiveness 
which  cleaves  to  evil  when  personated  in  a  man.  For 
these  and  manifold  reasons,  a  bad  book,  though  its  energy 
may  not  be  so  intense  and  striking,  may,  by  its  subtle  and 
insidious  influences,  be  far  more  dangerous  in  a  religious 
regard  than  a  bad  man,  however  plausible  and  attractive 
are  his  manners  or  conversation. 

The  inquiry  will  here  be  interposed :  Do  we  not  asso- 
ciate freely  and  often  intimately,  with  living  men  whose 
religious  faith, — or  no  faith, — we  reject,  and  with  whose 
feelings  we  cannot  sympathize?  Should  we  not  count  it 
folly  to  do.  otherwise  ?  Why,  then,  should  not  we  do  thfe 
same  with  those  books  which  are  openly  anti-religious,  or 
which  are  divergent  from  our  own  faith  and  feelings?  We 
answer.  We  may  do  the  one  and  also  the  other.  The  rule 
is  not  that  we  may  never  read  nor  even  study  books  of  the 
class  described,  but  it  is  that  whenever  the  reading  or  the 
study  does  us  positive  harm,  or  tends  to  a  conscious  evil, 
then  such  books  should  be  abandoned  and  proscribed  for 
our  individual  use.  The  Great  Master  of  the  faiths  of 
Christendom,  and  in  a  sense  even  of  its  no-faiths,  has  laid 
down  the  rule,  '  If  thine  eye  causes  thee  to  ofi^cnd,  pluck  it 
out.'  Is  a  book,  a  favorite  author,  or  a  course  of  reading, 
worth  more  to  us  than  the  eye  or  the  hand?  Or  may  we 
say  or  think  that  because  we  have  become  great  readers  we 
have  outgrown  the  authority  of  Christ's  teachings  ?  Surely 
not  those  which  concern  our  duty  and  allegiance  to  Him- 
self. Shall  we  count  Him  too  severe  when  He  comes  into 
our  libraries  to  scrutinize  our  reading  and  to  judge  our 
literature?  Not  surely  if  we  remember  that  this  censor 
and  judge,  who  is  seemingly  so  severe  upon  some  of  our 


Chap.  IX.]  Their  Religious  Character.  106 

books  and  reading,  has  done  more  than  all  the  writers  and 
all  the  culture  of  all  the  ages,  to  excite  the  imagination,  to 
elevate  the  emotions,  to  give  power  and  breadth,  tone  and 
patlios  to  what  we  call  modern,  but  should  call  Christian  lit- 
erature ;  that  he  has  given  themes  and  inspiration  to  Dante 
and  Milton,  to  Tasso  and  Shakspeare,  to  Wordsworth  and 
Coleridge,  to  Schiller  and  Tennyson,  to  Scott  and  the 
Brownings,  to  Dickens  and  Hawthorne — has  not  only  sub- 
dued modern  thought  and  feeling  by  his  authority,  but  in 
so  doing,  has  elevated  and  transfigured  modern  thought  and 
feeling  to  the  enlargement  and  the  aspirations  of  which 
modern  literature  is  the  splendid  product. 

But  here  it  will  be  insisted,  and  with  great  apparent 
truth,  that  literature  is  in  its  very  nature  free,  and  the 
imagination  in  order  to  be  creative  must  for  the  time  be 
freed  from  those  restraints  which  the  actual  and  the  practi- 
cal both  acknowledge.  "  Literature,"  it  will  be  urged,  "  has 
always  in  its  influence  been  catholic  and  liberalizing,  for 
the  simple  reason  tliat  it  has  embodied  in  its  products  the 
results  of  every  form  of  thought  and  opinion,  and  every 
shade  of  sentiment  and  emotion,  without  respect  to  the 
exactest  orthodoxy  of  opinion,  or  the  precise  quality  or  in- 
tensity of  the  religious  feelings.  It  has  served  as  the  one 
liberalizing  agency  in  the  world  of  conti'oversy  and  intoler- 
ance by  providing  a  common  arena  where  the  professors  of 
all  faiths  have  met  on  the  footing  of  courteous  toleration, 
have  had  access  to  each  other's  views,  and  learned  rightly 
to  appreciate  and  judge  emotions  with  which  they  have 
not  sympathized.  Had  it  not  been  for  this  fusing  and 
liberalizing  influence,"  it  is  urged,  "theology  would  have 
been  hopelessly  'bigoted  and  unreformed,  every  sect  and 
party  would  have  shut  itself  up  within  its  own  narrow 
pale,  and  those  humane  and  charitable  sentimonts  which 
are  acknowledged  as  the  genuine  products  of  true  religion 
would  scarcely  have  found  expression  or  influence.     It  is 


106  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  ix. 

to  a  free  and  catholic  literature  that  theology  owes  thanks 
for  its  most  important  advancements,  and  it  is  from  such 
a  literature  that  religion  has  learned  to  be  charitable  and 
humane.  Frozn  the  days  of  those  Athenian  bigots,  who 
caused  the  martyrdom  of  Socrates  in  the  interest  of  an 
established  religion,  down  to  the  latest  mitigation  of  the 
ferocity  of  Christian  theologians,  literature  has  been  most 
efficient  in  improving  theology,  while  the  culture  fostered 
by  literature,  when  untrammeled  by  religion,  has  in  its 
turn  humanized  religious  sentiment,  as  well  as  refined  the 
means  and  methods  of  expressing  it.  Above  all,  literature 
in  its  freedom  has  refined  and  elevated  that  prime  instru- 
ment of  both  culture  and  relig-ion — the  human  imagination. 
But  literature  has  only  been  able  to  accomplish  these 
changes  by  acting  on  an  independent  footing,  and  by  main- 
taining a  position  aloof  from  and  above  all  current  crude 
and  narrow  controversies ;  especially  the  intense  and  exclu- 
sive emotions  that  belong  to  the  zealot  and  devotee.  It  is 
only  as  men  of  genius  have  compelled  the  religionist  to 
allow  them  an  exemption  from  his  narrow  sympathies  that 
they  have  made  for  literature  a  sphere  of  its  own,  a  refuge 
and  a  home  for  all  noble  and  ennobling  emotions,  a  verita- 
ble Delectable  Ground  where  the  imagination  may  disport 
itself  freely  and  be  refreshed." 

This  is  true  and  important.  But  on  the  other  hand  the 
commands  of  the  Master  are  definite  and  uncompromising, 
if  we  could  only  ascertain  what  they  signify.  Moreover,  it 
is  in  the  world  of  thought  and  imagination  that  He  claims 
especial  control,  because  it  is  here  that  the  principles  are 
formed  and  the  affections  find  their  nurture.  It  is  because 
the  imagination  is  so  nearly  allied  to  faith  that  her  power  to 
hinder  or  to  help  is  so  unlimited,  and  that  literature  itself 
becomes  to  religion  either  the  deadliest  foe  or  the  most 
potent  ally.  There  are  not  a  few  who  say,  "  Leave  to  reli- 
gion and  literature  independent  spheres.  As  of  science 


Chap.  IX]  Their  Religious  Character.  107 

so  of  literary  activity,  their  maxim  is,  '  Render  to  Cfesar 
the  things  which  are  Ccesar's,  and  to  God  the  things  which 
are  God's.'  Allow  to  each  untrammeled  activity.  As 
religionists  we  must  maintain  our  creed,  as  worshipers  we 
must  perform  our  devotions.  These  should  satisfy  the  de- 
mands of  religion,  but  in  the  sphere  of  literature  we  may 
claim  and  use  the  utmost  freedom.  As  readers  and  critics 
we  need  not  care  whether  what  we  read  is  in  opinion  The- 
istic  and  Cliristian,  on  the  one  hand,  or  atheistic  and 
Christless  on  the  other;  whether  in  sentiment  it  is  devout 
and  thankful,  or  Godless  and  despairing;  whether  it  is 
reverent  and  trustful,  or  scoffing  and  profane."  This  device 
is  accepted  by  some  and  practiced  by  more.  The  sermon 
on  Sunday  and  the  Scripture  on  the  week-day  are  dutifully 
attended  to ;  the  prayers  are  said  and  the  songs  are  sung 
morning  and  evening  with  earnest  devoutness ;  a'nd  so  reli- 
gion has  her  rights.  Religion  having  received  its  dues 
literature  asserts  its  claims.  Forthwith  our  favorite 
authors  plunge  us  into  an  atmosphere  of  thouglit  and  feel- 
ing in  which  there  is  neither  God,  nor  Christ,  nor  thank- 
fulness, nor  hope ;  or  perhaps  into  an  atmosphere  which  is 
"  earthly,  sensual,  devilish."  Such  a  compromise,  as  it 
would  seem,  is  a  hollow  truce,  an  armed  neutrality,  giving 
the  amplest  opportunity  for  disguised  treachery  on  the  one 
hand  and  a  compliant  surrender  on  the  other.  It  can 
satisfy  no  religionist  whose  belief  is  any  thing  more  than  a 
tradition  to  accept  or  a  symbol  to  swear  by,  or  whose  wor- 
ship is  aught. beyond  a  superstition  or  a  spectacular  display. 
■^  The  man  whose  religion  does  not  show  itself  in  forming 
and  regulating  his  taste  for  books  and  reading,  or  which 
allows  a  practical  libertinism  in  this  regard,  might  as  well 
dispense  with  it  altogether.  He  can  hardly  be  said  to  have 
any  religion  "  worth  the  speaking  of." 

It  is  in  these  forms  that  the  question  of  the  religious 
relations  of  books  and  reading  presents  itself  at  the  present 


108  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  ix. 

day.  Religion  on  the  one  hand  urges  its  authority,  and 
this  authority  knows  no  compromise.  On  the  other  hand, 
literature  rightfully  asserts  its  freedom,  shows  that  this 
freedom  has  the  sanction  of  Christianity  itself,  and  has 
most  efficiently  served  Christianity  by  making  it  tolerant 
and  humane.  "  J  would  not  read  Shelley's  Queen  Mab, 
because  it  is  atheistic,"  said  one  college  friend  to  another. 
"  Why  not  read  Shelley,"  replied  the  other,  "  as  soon  as 
Lucretius,  who  is  far  more  deliberately  and  consistently 
atheistic ;  or  as  soon  as  Homer  or  Virgil,  those  hoary  old 
assertors  of  '  lords  many  and  gods  many  ?'  And  yet  you 
not  only  allow  yourself  to  read  these  inveterate  sinners,  but 
you  would  steep  the  minds  of  the  young  in  the  literature  of 
antiquity,  pervaded  as  it  is  with  the  exploded  orthodoxies 
of  the  past."  Again,  it  is  asked,  "  Why  not  read  the 
modern  Emerson,  because  some  say  that  he  teaches  a  sub- 
tle Pantheism,  as  freely  as  you  read  the  ancient  Plotinus, 
to  whom  he  refers  so  often,  and  with  a  deference  so  pro- 
found ;  or  as  you  read  those  Indian  sages,  from  whom  he 
quotes  a  striking  line  now  and  then,  with  the  intimation 
that  should  he  tell  us  all  they  have  written,  Jesus  and  His 
teachings  might  be  greatly  cast  into  the  shade,  and  perhaps 
lose  much  of  that  public  confidence  with  which  they  have 
hitherto  been  favored  ?"  "  Or  why  is  it  worse  for  a  Chris- 
tian family  to  be  amused  by  the  clever  caricatures  of 
Holmes  than  it  is  to  read  and  laugh  at  the  lampoons  of 
Lucian,  inasmuch  as  both  are  directed  against  the  same 
object,  the  current  Christian  orthodoxies  of  the  nineteenth 
and  second  centuries?" 

Questions  like  these  are  not  unfrequently  asked,  and  it  is 
not  always  easy  to  answer  them.  It  is;safe  to  say,  that  who- 
ever the  author  may  be,  whether  he  be  Shelley  or  Lu- 
cretius, Emerson  or  Plotinus,  Holmes  or  Ijucian,  if  he 
shakes  your  well-established  confidence  in  God,  or  leads 
you  to  disown  the  name  that  is  above  every  name ;  or  if  h« 


Chap.  IX.]  Their  Religious  Character.  109 

disturbs  the  serenity  or  fervor  of  your  Clirlstian  devotion, 
then  he  is  not  an  author  whom  you  should  read.  If  he 
docs  not  exercise  this  influence  over  you,  if  he  casts  upon 
you  no  spell  or  blight  of  evil,  you  may  admire  his  genius 
and  rejoice  in  its  products,  while  you  are  amazed  at  his 
presumption  and  pity  his  blindness  to  the  light  which  to 
you  is  so  cheerful  and  satisfying.  As  between  the  ancient 
and  modern  Pantheists  and  anti-Christians,  one  difference, 
however,  deserves  to  be  noticed.  The  older  writers  repre- 
sent principles  and  modes  of  thinking  that  are  more  or  less 
effete.  Their  arguments  and  images  have  little  force  with 
the  present  generation,  occupied  as  it  is  with  modern 
thought  and  animated  by  the  modern  spirit.  Their 
modern  followers  invest  their  opinions  with  the  dignity  of 
present  science,  and  make  them  glow  with  the  interest  of 
current  thought,  as  well  as  breathe  the  warmth  of  men 
who  have  the  ear  and  the  sympathy  of  the  present  genera- 
tion. The  philosopher  of  ancient  times  protests  against 
degrading  and  childish  superstitions,  and,  by  contrast, 
finds  an  advantage  for  his  deification  of  nature  and  his 
serene  and  self-relying  resignation  to  fate.  The  modern 
rejects  the  personal  care  and  scorns  the  personal  sympathy 
of  an  Infinite  Father.  The  ancient  stands  with  his  eye  to 
the  east  peering — sometimes  wistfully — afler  the  faint  in- 
dications of  the  dawning  twilight ;  himself  a  dark  and  cold 
shadow  against  the  breaking  light  of  the,  as  yet,  unrisen 
sun.  The  modern  looks  westward  with  his  back  proudly 
turned  on  its  risen  splendor,  amid  a  world  that  from  every 
object  reflects  its  pervading  light ;  himself  suffused  with 
that  light  and  glowing  with  the  attractions  which  it  gives, 
but  denying  that  it  proceeds  from  the  sun  or  that  the  sun  is 
risen  and  shines.  The  Atheist  or  Pantheist  of  antiquity  is 
a  cold  spectre,  shivering  in  the  chill  morning.  His  imita- 
tor of  the  nineteenth  century,  rejoices  in  the  strength  and 


110  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  ix. 

glows  with  the  beauty  of  the  high  noon  of  the  Christian 
day.  AVhile  his  power  to  attract  and  move  the  men  of  his 
time  gives  plausibility  and  currency  to  the  little  argument 
which  he  employs,  these  very  attractions  arc  its  most  effi- 
cient refutation,  because  they  are  all  derived  irom  the 
Christian  Faith  or  the  civilization  which  has  flowered  from 
its  roots. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A     CHRISTIAN   LITEEATUIIE — HOW   CONCiSIVED   AND    DE- 
FIXED. 

These  several  inquiries  and  arguments — these  march- 
ings and  counter-marchings  of  thought  which  we  have 
taken, — force  upon  us  the  more  general  inquiry  :  Is  there 
anything  which  can  properly  be  called  a  Christian  litera- 
ture? If  so,  what  is  it?  How  can  it  be  defined  so  as  to 
secure,  on  the  one  hand,  the  essential  freedom  which  litera- 
ture imperatively  requires,  and  on  the  other,  the  deference 
to  Christianity  which  Christianity  uncompromisingly  ex- 
acts ?  How  far  can  we  be  tolerant  of  every  variety  of 
sentiment  and  opinion  and  yet  be  just  to  our  allegiance  to 
the  great  Master  of  our  faith,  and  indeed,  of  modern  litera- 
ture ? 

These  questions  are  very  much  vexed  in  modern  think- 
ing, and  the  answers  to  them  are  also  vexatious  to  many 
who  strive  to  adjust  the  claims  of  culture  and  of  Christian 
feeling.  They  cannot  be  answered  without  considering 
what  is  the  correct  conception  of  literature,  as  well  as  what 
must  be  taken  as  essential  to  Christianity  so  far  as  it 
should  be  recognized  in  literature.  In  respect  to  both 
these  points,  the  views  of  many  are  diverse  and  unsettled. 
Hence  the  term  Christian  literature  is  used  by  diiferent 
men  in  senses  which  are  exceedingly  vague,  and  often 
plainly  contradictory.  We  shall  best  explain  our  own 
meaning  by  asking  first,  "What  a  Christian  literature  is 
not,  and  second.  What  it  is  ? 

A  Christian  literature  is  not  necessarily  Theological  in 

111 


112  Books  and  Beadinff.  [Chap.  X. 

its  matter  or  form.  Theological  treatises,  however  able 
and  convincing,  are  not  therefore  works  of  literature. 
They  may  be  convincing  and  exhaustive  in  argument,  and 
erudite  in  history,  without  that  perfection  of  style,  that  at- 
tractiveness of  imagery,  or  that  eloquence  of  feeling,  which 
are  the  requisites  of  whatever  is  dignified  as  literature. 
While  in  one  sense  we  include  in  literature  all  -the  pro- 
ducts of  human  thinking  which  are  made  permanent  in 
books  or  pamphlets — and  in  this  sense  everything  that  is 
printed  belongs  to  the  literature  of  the  day,  of  the  week,  or 
of  the  century — we  usually  require  certain  chai'acteristics 
of  form  and  illustration  for  that  which  we  call  literature 
in  the  eminent  sense.  Theology  is  not  of  course  included 
in  Christian  literature  because  it  is  Christian,  if  it  does  not 
possess  these  special  features ;  nor,  again,  should  it  be  ex- 
cluded from  its  sphere  because  its  themes  are  both  relig- 
ious and  Christian.  Some  of  the  finest  contributions  to 
modern  literature  have  been  works  of  theology.  The 
writings  of  Bossuet,  Massillon,  Hooker,  Taylor,  Howe, 
Eobert  Hall,  Mason,  Edward  Irving,  Channing,  Cole- 
ridge, Robertson  and  many  others,  hold  the  highest  rank 
as  literary  compositions. 

Not  every  devotional  or  practical  treatise  is  a  contribu- 
tion to  Christian  literature.  By  the  rule  already  given, 
many  devotional  works  fall  within,  but  many  more  fall  with- 
out this  sphere.  The  Hebrew  Psalms ;  many  Christian 
hymns,  as  of  Milton,  Watts,  Wesley,  Heber,  Keble, 
Faber  and  J.  H.  Newman,  to  say  nothing  of  the  Latin 
and  German  Lyrists,  all  give  grace  and  beauty  to  Chris- 
tian literature.  With  them  are  ranked  a  few  devotional 
and  practical  works,  such  as  the  De  Imitatione  Christi, 
The  Holy  Living  and  Dying,  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  do. 
But  it  is  no  dishonor  to  say  of  numerous  products  of  devo- 
tional rhyming  and  meditation,  that  they  belong  to  litera- 
ture- in  no  tolerable  sense  of  the  word,  and  therefore  not  to 


Chap.  X.i  A  Christian  Literature.  113 

Christian  literature  at  all.  They  may  be  useful  in  their 
sphere,  and  therefore  deserve  to  be  tolerated  and  even  en- 
couraged, but  they  are  not  literature.  They  may  be  hon- 
estly thought  and  earnestly  written,  and  withal  be  very  use- 
ful for  the  circle  of  readers  for  whom  they  are  designed. 
Perhaps  from  their  plainness  and  want  of  formal  attrac- 
tions they  are  fitted  to  be  more  useful  than  works  of 
greater  ability  and  genius.  The  man  who  requires  the 
highest  perfection  in  form  and  diction  may  be  content 
with  them  for  their  Christian  excellence,  but  he  is  not 
therefore  obliged  to  be  pleased  with  what  is-  uncultured 
in  language,  mean  in  illustration,  and  commonplace  in 
thought.  That  which  is  positively  oifensive  in  both  form 
and  concepiiion  may  be  a  positive  injury  to  the  cause  which 
it  professes  to  serve.  The  claim  is  sometimes  set  up  that 
Christianity  is  to  be  held  responsible  for  the  mass  of 
wretched  doggerel  and  drivelling  that  has  been  written  by 
its  earnest  but  uncultured  disciples,  and  that  every  rever- 
ent Christian  is  obliged  to  treat  it  with  respect  and  read  it 
with  deference.  The  claim  is  preposterous,  and  for  those 
to  seem  to  allow  it  whose  taste  it  offends  or  whose  intel- 
lect it  does  not  instruct,  is  to  sin  against  both  taste  and 
Christianity.  Such  stuff  may  be  tolerated  when  it  is  use- 
ful, but  is  only  to  be  endured  as  a  useful  evil.  To  re- 
commend or  to  circulate  all  sorts  of  goodish  writing 
because  of  its  Christian  aims,  or  to  encourage  the  reading 
and  printing  of  it  under  the  title  of  a  Christian  litera- 
ture, is  to  commit  nothing  less  than  a  pious  fraud,  which 
is  as  weak  as  it  is  dishonest. 

A  Christian  literature  is  not  usually  written  in  the  inter- 
est or  with  the  spirit  of  a  Christian  sect  or  denomination. 
While  it  is  the  impulse  and  the  duty  of  every  such  division 
of  Christian  confessors  to  set  forth  and  to  defend  its  distinc- 
tive tenets,  and  while  the  champions  of  each  are  often  most 
eloquent  and  able  in  such  vindications,  it  is  to  be  observed 


114  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  x. 

that  the  themes  wliich  most  readily  challenge  the  intellect  ^ 
to  its  noblest  achievements,  and  inspire  the  imagination  to 
its  loftiest  flights,  are  the  truths  which  the  Christian  Church 
holds  in  common.  Those  religious  and  Christian  writers 
whose  works  have  been  received  as  the  permanent  glories 
of  literature,  if  they  have  written  for  their  own  communion, 
have  usually  addressed  what  was  Christian  in  it,  and  by 
tliis  means  have  found  a  response  in  the  Christian  senti- 
ment of  all  believers. 

Again :  A  work  need  not  be  religious,  cither  in  matter 
or  form — it  need  neither  avow  Christian  doctrines  nor  ex- 
press Christian  feelings — to  deserve  a  place  in  Christian 
literature.  A  history,  a  novel,  a  poem,  a  talc,  an  essay,  a 
drama  may  be  eminently  Christian  without  uttering  the 
name  of  Christ  or  recognizing  directly  a  faith  in  His  per- 
son or  teachings,  and  without  even  expressing  those  emo- 
tions which  are  distinctively  religious.  No  disavowal  or 
denial  of  Christian  truths  can  be  allowed,  no  dishonor 
may  be  put  upon  the  sentiments  of  Christian  faith,  hope, 
and  woi*ship,  but  the  obtrusion  of  either  for  the  purpose  of 
expressing  the  creed  of  the  writer,  or  of  confirming  that 
of  the  reader,  may  be  forbidden  by  the  proprieties  of  the 
occasion,  and  be  so  manifestly  an  offense  against  good  taste 
as  to  hinder  rather  than  help  the  good  cause.  All  that 
may  properly  be  required  is  that  the  work  should  be  such 
as  a  Christian  writer  might  be  supposed  to  produce  with- 
out inconsistency,  and  such  as  a  devout  Christian  reader 
might  be  conceived  as  reading,  without  cfTcnsc  to  his 
opinions  and  feelings.  This  leads  us  to  consider  positively 
what  a  Christian  literature  is  or  ought  to  be.  If  it  need 
not  be  theological,  devotional,  practical,  or  even  religious, 
in  order  to  be  Christian,  pray  how  can  it  be  ciiaracterized 
and  judged  ?     We  reply :  First, 

A  Christian  literature  must  be  controlled  and  pervaded 
by  those  ethical  faiths  and  emotions  that  are  distinctively 


Chap.  X.]  -4  Christian  Literature.  115 

Christian.  Many  of  these  have  become  so  completely  the 
property  of  Christendom  that  it  is  often  forgotten  that  they 
are  the  products  of  Christianity.  They  have  been  accepted 
more  or  less  intelligently  and  consistently  as  constituting 
the  right  standard  of  the  true  and  the  good  for  the  human 
race,  and  the  measure  of  what  is  ideally  noble  in  human 
attainment  and  desirable  for  human  aspiration.  They  in- 
fluence communities  which  would  scarcely  call  themselves 
Christian.  Not  a  few  individuals  who  are  ambitious  to 
show  that  they  think  very  slightingly  of  the  claims  of 
Christ's  person,  or  of  the  influence  of  the  Christian  church, 
are  foremost  to  pay  homage  to  the  eternal  truth  and  the 
unquestioned  excellence  of  those  ethical  faiths  and  feelings 
which  we  claim  are  distinctively  Christian,  and  which  we 
assert  should  characterize  any  literature  which  is  in  any 
sense  Christian.  The  faith  in  the  moral  order  of  the  uni- 
verse as  supreme  and  beneficent,  because  directed  by  a 
holy  and  sympathizing  Father,  the  belief  in  the  ultimate 
triumph  of  the  good  and  the  right,  the  conviction  that  love 
to  God  and  love  to  man  comprehend  all  goodness — are 
some  of  these  prominent  ethical  faiths.  Hope  in  adversity, 
resignation  under  afiliction,  penitence  for  transgression, 
forgiveness  under  wrong,  the  desire  to  recover  and  reform 
the  vicious,  charity  in  judging  of  the  motives  of  other  men 
— these  and  many  kindred  feelings  are  distinctively  Chris- 
tian feelings.  Just  in  the  measure  in  which  these  faiths 
and  feelings  give  spirit  and  tone  to  the  productions  of  any 
writer,  just  in  that  proportion  is  he  a  Christian  writer. 
Just  in  the  measure  in  which  any  one  or  all  of  these  emo- 
tions and  convictions,  fail  to  show  their  presence  and 
power  when  required,  does  the  writer  of  any  work  depart 
from  the  Christian  and  fall  back  into  the  Pagan  spirit. 
We  do  not  speak  of  the  obtrusive  or  pharisaical  lip-service 
of  an  essayist  or  poet,  but  of  the  homage  of  the  convictions 
and  the  heart.     We  do  not  require  ill-placed  or  obtrusive 


116  Books  and  Reading,  [Chap.  X. 

moralizing,  or  -wearisome  cant.  These  are  sometimes  as 
eminently  unchristian  in  fact  as  "they  are  pretentiously 
Christian  in  form.  But  we  insist  that  any  writer  who  does 
not  accept  the  faiths,  and  sympathize  with  the  emotions 
which  are  Christian,  is  not  a  Christian  writer,  in  M'hatever 
year  of  grace  he  may  write  or  whatever  may  be  the  charm 
or  the  power  of  his  thinking  or  his  style.  Let  those  who 
write  in  the  faith  of  Stoicism  and  Avith  the  feelings  to 
which  it  schools  the  heart,  receive  all  the  honor  which 
they  deserve  for  their  gifts  or  genius,  but  let  them  not  ask 
to  be  called  Christian  writers.  Nor  let  their  genial  self- 
complacence  be  ruffled  by  the  slightest  ripple  of  contempt- 
uous disdain  if  critics  or  readers  who  receive  a  more 
humane , — i.  e,  a  less  "advanced"  (or  retrograde) — practical 
creed  than  themselves,  shall  fear  or  avoid  their  influence  as 
ethically  defective  or  injurious. 

But  Christianity,  even  as  it  influences  literature,  is  more 
than  an  ethical  system.  It  would  be  easy  to  show  that 
the  faiths  and  emotions  which  have  been  enumerated,  have 
all  been  matured  by  the  power  of  a  belief  in  the  personal 
and  historic  Christ.  Whatever  value  or  dignity  they  may 
have  in  the  judgment  of  the  race  which  has  been  trained 
to  accept  and  approve  them — whatever  hold  they  may  have 
gained  upon  the  sentiment  and  the  literature  of  Christendom, 
is  owing  to  the  energy  with  which  this  faith  in  the  person 
of  Christ  lias  wrought  upon  the  minds  of  His  believing  dis- 
ciples. This  positive  faith  has  not  wholly  died  out.  How- 
ever confidently  it  may  be  claimed  that  all  the  "advanced 
thinkers"  of  the  times  reject  the  historic  traditions  of  the 
gospels  and  the  church,  it  remains  true  that  a  large  number 
of  thinking  and  cultured  men  still  retain  this  faith,  and 
recognize  this  faith  in  the  varied  Iftcrature  which  they  pro- 
duce and  delight  in.  AVhatever  they  write,  whether  it  be 
poem,  novel,  essay,  or  history,  is  written  in  the  spirit  of  a 
fervent  faith  in  Christ  as  their  Master  and  Saviour,  and  as 


Chap.  X.]  A  Christiun  lAterahire,  117 

the  destined  Judge  and  King  of  the  whole  human  race — 
&s  the  master  of  the  world's  future  thinking  and  the  central 
inspirer  of  its  future  literature.  There  are  others  who  do 
not  attach  this  importance  to  His  person  or  to  faith  in  it, 
who  find  in  Christ  nothing  more  than  a  genius  remarkable 
for  ethical  discernment  and  religious  tenderness,  for  whom 
all  claims  to  special  homage  or  confidence  must  be  aban- 
doned, with  the  progress  of  knowledge  and  of  insight.  In 
this  spirit  they  write  not  %vorks  of  grave  theology  alone, 
nor  treatises  of  sagacious  and  learned  pliilosophy,  but  works 
of  literature,  essays,  poems,  histories,  and  fictions. 

In  respect  to  writings  of  this  class  we  are  required  to  ask 
and  to  answer  the  questions.  Are  they  Christian  writings? 
Is  the  literature  which  they  compose  Christian  literature? 
If  they  are  not  Christian  for  defect  of  faith  in  the  person 
of  Christ,  how  precise  must  that  faith  be  made  and  what 
one  of  the  manifold  shades  of  alleged  orthodoxy  upon  this 
subject  must  it  assume  in  order  to  be  accepted  as  Christian? 
To  this  we  reply,  and  in  doing  so  develop  the  second  dis- 
tinctive mark  of  a  Christian  literature  : 

That  literature  alone  is  Christian  which  recognizes  Christ 
as  the  object  of  trust  aud  reverence.  Christ's  own  language 
is  here  most  pertinent.  "  Ye  call  me  Master  and  Lord ; 
and  ye  do  well,  for  so  I  am."  This  test  is  reasonable,  for 
the  reason  that  so  far  as  literature  as  such  can  be  aifected 
by  the  faith  of  a  writer,  it  must  be  chiefly  affected  by  his 
faith  or  his  want  of  faith  in  the  personal  authority  and 
position  of  Him  from  whom  Christianity  takes  its  name. 
We  cannot  agree  with  Emerson  that  "  by  the  irresistible 
maturing  of  the  general  mind,  the  Christian  traditions 
have  lost  their  hold.  The  dogma  of  the  mystic  offices  of 
Christ  being  drojjped,  and  He  standing  on  His  genius  as  a 
moral  teacher,  'tis  impossible  to  maintain  the  old  emphasis 
of  His  personality ;  and  it  recedes,  as  all  persons  must, 
before  the  sublimity  of  the  moral  laws."     "We  believe  that 


118  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap,  X. 

all  the  movements  of  thought  and  feeling  must  be  affected 
by  the  presence  or  absence  of  this  faith  in  Christ's  pei-sou- 
ality.  Mr.  Emerson  would  be  the  last  to  deny  that  up  to 
a  very  recent  period  the  intellect  and  heart  of  Christendom 
have  been  swayed  by  this  faith  in  Christ's  person  as  a  rul- 
ing principle,  and  that  much  of  the  manhood  and  more  of 
the  womanhood  which  is  reflected  in  modern  literature,  is 
represented  as  formed  by  its  influence.  The  two  not  un- 
common prints  from  Ary  Scheffer,  the  Christus  Consolator 
and  Christus  Remuneraior,  forcibly  depict  what  have  been 
the  central  forces  of  the  Christian  literature  of  the  jjast,  as 
well  as  symbolize  its  distinctive  criteria  in  all  time. 

The  criterion  we  propose,  is  reasonable  and  just.  If  a 
man  does  not  believe  in  the  reality  or  significance  of 
Christ's  person,  his  disbelief  must  modify  his  judgments 
of  the  characters  and  the  sentiments  which  are  formed  by 
this  faith.  He  may  respect  these  for  their  sincerity,  but 
he  cannot  honor  them  for  their  reasonableness.  The  emo- 
tions to  which  they  prompt,  the  style  of  character  which 
they  form,  the  hopes  and  fears  which  they  inspire,  the 
principles  of  action  which  they  create,  in  a  word,  the  man- 
hood and  the  womanhood  which  they  produce,  cannot  re- 
ceive his  full  and  hearty  sympathy.  Let  a  writer  have  a 
marvellous  power  of  passing  into  the  character  which  he 
depicts,  and  of  feeling  for  the  time  the  very  emotions 
which  the  character  he  impersonates  should  express ;  still 
the  capacity  of  truly  and  adequately  rendering  the  emo- 
tions of  a  Christian  soul  can  scarcely  be  readied  by  him, 
if  they  do  not  awaken  his  believing  sympathy.  Goethe's 
delineation  of  the  Confessions  of  a  Beautiful  Soul  in  ]Vil- 
helm  Meister,  George  Eliot's  Dinah  in  Adam  Bcdc,  might 
be  cited  as  instances  against  this  position.  Both  these  wri- 
ters, it  will  be  generally  conceded,  do  not  accept  the  faith 
which  controlled  the  feelings  of  the  characters  whom  they 
depict.     Shall  we  call  these  delineations  failures  ?  Goethe 


Chap.  X.]  ^  Qiristian  lAtei^afure.  119 

succeeds  in  most  respects  in  hiding  his  own  face  beneath  the 
mask  and  robes  which  he  assumes,  but  the  voice  of  Jacob  at 
times  betrays  the  half-sympathizing,  half-mocking  skeptic, 
even  in  the  most  plaintive  tones  of  confession  and  of  hope. 
Of  Dinah  we  scarcely  can  trust  ourselves  to  speak.  The 
character  is  so  eminently  and  heartily  Christian,  even  in 
the  most  of  its  finer  shades,  that  we  do  not  care  to  point 
out  the  particulars  in  which  it  betrays  the  want  of  the 
entircst  symjiathy  on  the  part  of  the  author.  Surely  it 
was  written  from  the  fresh  remembrances  of  days  of  warm 
and  confiding  Christian  faith,  now  perhaps  under  the  chill 
of  an  honest,  and  a  temporary  eclipse. 

To  use  this  criterion  is  also  historically  just.  We  do  not 
call  Plato,  Plotinus,  or  Epictetus,  Christian  writers,  how- 
ever noble  be  their  faith,  or  lofty  their  ethics,  for  the 
reason  that  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  are  Christian  in  the 
historic  sense  of  the  word.  We  do  not  call  Julian  a  Chris- 
tian because  he  would  exalt  the  Christ  whom  he  disowned 
among  the  sages  and  gods  of  the  ancient  mythology ;  nor 
do  we  cull  Spinoza  a  Christian  writer,  because  his  ethics 
arc  so  lofty  and  his  resignations  are  so  saint-like.  Pray, 
what  should  wc  call  Emerson,  or  Thoreau,  or  the  hosts  of 
"advanced  thinkers"  who  in  their  writings  obtrusively 
annomice  their  absence  of  faith  in  the  received  import  of 
the  Cliristian  history,  and  in  the  lowest  possible  signifi- 
cance of  the  central  pereonage  in  that  history;  who  quietly 
assume  that  it  is  now  beyond  dispute,  among  all  those 
whoso  opinions  are  entitled  to  respect,  that  this  history  is 
an  effete  mythology,  and  that  Christ,  as  a  personage  to  be 
trusted  and  adored,  is  an  exploded  imposture?  Or  what 
shall  we  call  those  literary  critics  who  in  their  judgments 
of  history  or  philosophy,  of  poetry  or  fiction,  tacitly  assume 
or  confidently  assert  that  the  results  of  what  is  significantly 
called  "  negative  criticism,"  in  respect  to  a  belief  in  the 
miraculous  and  the  supernatural,  are  now  accepted  by  all 


120  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  x. 

enlightened  and  well-read  thinkers  ?  We  make  a  differ- 
ence, it  is  true,  between  those  whose  intellects  are  oppressed 
with  perplexities,  while  their  hearts  are  thoroughly  Chris- 
tian, and  the  confident  and  contemptuous  anti-Christian; 
between  those  who  long  to  believe,  but  who  cannot  fully 
accept  the  Christian  record  and  the  truths  which  it  con- 
tains, who  are  yet  devout  worshipers  of  the  (as  yet)  unknown 
God  and  the  unfathoraed  Christ,"  and  those  who  desire  no 
Grod  but  "  the  beneficent  laws,"  and  no  Christ  but  some 
idealized  human  genius.  There  is  an  important  sense  in 
which  it  is  true  that 

**  There  lives  more  faith  in  honest  doubt 
Believe  me,  than  in  half  the  creeds." 

To  call  this  literature  and  these  writers  a-Christian, 
wn-Christian,  or  anii-Christian,  is  not  intolerant.  We  do 
not  desire  to  suppress  either  by  law  or  by  the  force  of 
public  opinion.  We  will  defend  the  right  of  those  who 
hold  their  opinions  to  propagate  them  to  the  utmost  of 
their  ability,  by  all  tliose  means  which  are  recognized  as 
proper  by  the  laws  of  the  country  and  the  courtesies  of 
literary  freedom.  Not  only  would  we  tolerate  ihem  in  the 
propagation  of  their  theologies  and  philosophies,  but  we 
hold  ourselves  ready  to  study  their  reasons,  to  weigh  their 
arguments,  and  ponder  their  facts,  with  the  utmost  atten- 
tion and  care.  We  will  even  welcome  them  to  the  arena 
of  public  criticism  and  discussion,  as  those  who  are  likely 
to  render  an  important  service  to  the  cause  of  truth  and 
Christianity,  jast  so  far  as  they  present  facts  for  our  con- 
sideration, or  arguments  for  our  scrutiny.  But  we  claim 
from  them  a  like  toleration  in  turn.  They  may  not  regard 
questions  as  settled  to  the  disadvantage  of  Christianity, 
which  we  consider  as  open  for  its  vindication.  Least  of 
all  may  they  seek  to  transfer  the  discussions  which  are 
appropriate  to  the  fields  of  philosophy  and  theology — the 


Chap.  X.]  A  Christian  Literature.  121 

recognized  fields  of  lawful  strife — into  the  arena  of  litera- 
ture, where  the  rights  of  the  flag  of  truce  prevail.  A 
truly  knightly  soul  would  scorn  under  such  a  flag  to  ask 
for  any  one-sided  courtesy.  We  welcome  these  writers  to 
the  arena  of  discussion  when  they  present  themselves  as 
theologians  and  philosophers,  and  concede  to  them  all  the 
rights  of  toleration  which  we  ask  for  ourselves ;  but  when 
they  claim  the  one-sided  privilege  of  proclaiming  at  our 
fire-sides,  with  cold-blooded  assurance  or  sardonic  scorn, 
that  the  victory  is  with  them,  over  our  cherished  faiths, 
our  hallowed  woi-ships,  and  our  immortal  hopes,  we  deny 
that  the  question  is  any  longer  a  question  of  tolerance. 

Nor  is  our  position  discourteous.  It  is  not  discourteous 
to  call  certain  writers  rejecters  of  Christ  as  an  object  of 
love  and  confidence,  or  to  say  of  them  that  they  make  litera- 
ture a  medium  by  which  to  express  and  propagate  tlieir 
private  opinions.  Whether  it  is  altogether  courteous  on 
their  part  to  obtrude  these  opinions  in  ways  so  manifold 
and  unnecessary,  is  a  question  which  we  will  not  discuss. 
If  it  is  true,  as  they  insist  so  often  as  at  least  to  persuade 
themselves,  that  those  who  adhere  to  the  old  faith  in 
Christ's  personality,  are  blind  to  argument  and  ignorant  of 
history,  that  they  know  nothing  of  criticism,  and  are  un- 
acquainted with  philosophy,  it  would  be  a  matter  of 
humanity  at  least  to  leave  such  to  the  quiet  enjoyment  of 
their  own  ignorance  and  want  of  thought.  If  it  is  not  dis- 
courteous to  dishonor  what  they  revere,  and  satirize  what 
they  respect,  it  is  at  least  inhuman  to  make  them  uncom- 
fortable.' If  it  is  not  indictable  under  the  statutes  of  dis- 
courtesy, it  may  at  least  be  condemned  under  the  laws 
against  cruelty  to  the  ignorant  and  imbecile. 

Our  position  is  not  proscriptive.  We  do  not  contend 
that  these  anti-Christian  writers  are  never  to  be  read,  ad- 
mired, and  enjoyed  by  a  person  who  rejects  their  version 
of  the   New   Testament   history;  but  only  that   if  they 


122  Boohs  and  Reading,  [Chap.  X. 

weaken  his  faith  and  disturb  his  peace  by  an  indirect  sug- 
gestion of  sentiments  and  opinions  that  are  incongruous 
with  his  own,  he  had  better  leave  them  alone,  or  have  to 
do  with  them  only  so  far  as  his  taste  and  conscience  Avill 
allow.  We  do  not  disuse  the  literature  of  the  old  Pagans, 
nor  need  we  forego  the  use  and  enjoyment  of  the  new, 
provided  we  recognise  them  as  Pagans. 

"  No  one  who  acknowledges  Christ,"  writes  Dr.  Thomas 
Arnold,  "  can  be  indifferent  to  Him,  but  stands  in  such  re- 
lations to  Him  that  the  highest  reverence  must  be  pre- 
dominant in  His  mind  when  thinkins:  or  writinsc  of  Him." 

"If  I  think  that  Christ  was  no  more  than  Socrates  (I  do 
not  mean  in  degree  but  in  kind,)  I  can,  of  course,  speak 
of  Him  impartially ;  that  is,  I  assume  at  once  that  there 
are  faults  and  imperfections  in  His  character  and  on  these 
pass  my  judgment,  but  if  I  believe  in  Him,  I  am  not  His 
judge,  but  His  servant  and  creature,  and  He  claims  the 
devotion  of  my  whole  nature,  because  He  is  identified  with 
goodness,  wisdom  and  holiness." 

We  admire  all  that  this  literature  presents  for  our  ad- 
miration of  truth  in  morals  and  philosophy,  and  of  beauty 
in  imagery  and  diction ;  even  though  we  are  disturbed  at  the 
poverty  of  its  argumentation,  the  recklessne&s  of  its  asser- 
tions, and  the  undisguised  effrontery  of  its  self-satisfied 
illumination.  But  we  arc  not  prepared  to  substitute,  at  its 
bidding,  the  worship  of  Genius  for  the  worship  of  a  higher 
Master,  least  of  all,  the  worship  of  a  genius  that  in  some 
resj>ects  is  so  superficial,  even  though  in  others  it  is  so 
admirable. 

The  influence  of  this  anti-Christian  literature  is  far  more 
prevalent  in  this  country,  than  it  is  in  England.  With  us 
the  majority  of  the  cultivated  men  are  not  authors  and 
critics,  but  theologians,  lawyers,  physicians,  politicians, 
and  ])rojectors  of  all  types.  Of  the  few  who  have  been  the 
most  distinguished  in  fiction,  poetry,  and  criticism,  not  a 


Chap.  X.]  -4   Christian  Literature.  123 

pmall  party  sympathize  witli  a  very  much  smaller  party  in 
England  in  holding  what  is  called  a  negative  or  uncertain 
position  in  respect  to  the  very  grave  questions  which  are 
now  so  earnestly  agitated  concerning  Theism  and  Super- 
natural Christianity.  Thcreaders  and  students  of  litera- 
ture technically  so-called,  among  us,  are  more  impressible 
in  any  direction  to  which  their  favorite  authors  and  critics 
may  lead  them,  than  are  those  of  a  similar  class  in  any 
other  country.  Confident  assertion  in  imposing  phraseology 
and  under  attractive  imagery,  passes  for  more  with  us  than 
with  any  other  cultivated  people.  The  critical  journal, 
whether  it  be  quarterly,  monthly,  weekly,  or  daily,  insinu- 
ates most  successfully  what  it  believes,  or  rather  what  it 
fails  to  believe.  While  there  is  no  country  in  which  the 
Christian  faith  has  a  stronger  hold  upon  the  convictions  of 
earnest  and  sober  thinkers,  or  upon  the  feelings  of  the  true- 
hearted,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  among  the  cultivated 
classes  as  such,  that  is,  the  classes  devoted  to  literature  as 
a  passion  and  an  employment,  there  prevails  a  practical,  if 
not  an  avowed  Paganism,  in  one  of  the  two  forms  of  a 
philanthropic  Stoicism  or  a  refined  Epicureanism.  We 
call  it  Paganism,  because,  though  it  accepts  the  ethical 
spirit  which  Christianity  has  created,  it  is  as  far  removed 
from  the  Christian  worship  of  a  personal  God  and  the 
Christian  trust  in  Christ,  as  was  the  cultured  but  comfoiik. 
less  Philosophy  of  Athens,  which  ostentatiously  erecte(^ 
manifold  altars  to  the  Unknown  God — which  was  always 
eager  to  run  after  any  novelty  in  speculation,  but  conld 
make  nothing  of  the  teachings  of  Paul  the  Apostle. 

This  literary  Paganism  with  its  culture  and  its  confi- 
dence, with  its  positive  and  not  always  courteous  assertions 
tliat  science  and  history  are  entirely  upon  its  side,  has  no 
need  to  ask  for  toleration.  It  has  little  occasion  to  com- 
l)lain  of  social  persecution.  It  is  far  enough  from  being 
in  danger  of  reproach  or  ostracism,  while  it  has  the  hearty 


124  Books  and  Heading.  [Chap.  X. 

sympathy  of  multitudes  who  are  so  ambitious  of  culture  as 
to  be  ready  to  accept  any  novelty  in  the  form  of  specula- 
tive suggestions  or  brilliant  improvisation. 

"VYe  do  not  propose  to  discuss  the  influence  or  the  prospects 
of  this  Pagan  tendency  in  American  or  in  modern  litera- 
ture. Had  we  no  higher  assurance  that  its  influence  must 
be  short-lived,  history  would  teach  us  that  its  vagueness 
and  barrenness  must  soon  dry  up  its  life.  That  a  vigorous 
literature  cannot  be  long  sustained  in  an  atmosphere  of  no- 
faith  is  demonstrably  certain.  The  creative  and  fervent 
periods  of  English  literature  have  been  closely  connected 
with  the  prevalence  of  a  positive  Christian  belief,  and  a 
fervent  Christian  feeling.  Among  the  writers  of  eminent 
genius  now  living  who  are  influenced  by  the  Pagan  spirit, 
there  is  not  one  who  does  not  give  tokens  of  the  blight  and 
depression  which  the  cheerfulness  and  fervor  of  a  better 
hope  would  remove. 

But  we  need  not  pursue  our  theme  in  these  new  direc- 
tions. Its  practical  aspects  have  already  detained  us  too 
long. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

HISTORY   AND   HISTORICAL   READING. 

We  propose  to  leave  the  discussion  of  books  and  reading 
in  general,  and  to  proceed  to  some  more  particular  observa- 
tions upon  diflFerent  classes  of  books  and  different  kinds  of 
reading.  Perhaps  in  so  doing  our  thoughts  may  be  less 
general  than  they  have  been ;  we  cannot  promise  that  they 
will  be  anything  more  than  useful. 

We  begin  with  History.  It  seems  natural  to  begin  at 
this  point,  as  history  is  the  favorite  and  the  common  field 
of  all  industrious  readers.  The  bright-minded  boy,  who  is 
withal  a  little  solid  and  thoughtful,  if  he  is  known  among 
his  companions  as  a  great  reader,  usually  takes  a  special 
delight  in  History.  If  he  is  merely  bright-minded,  he 
may  be  satisfied  with  novels  or  plays,  childish  or  other- 
wise ;  but  if  he  is  also  intelligent  and  curious,  he  uniformly 
takes  to  History.  He  usually  does  this  very  early,  and 
not  rarely  he  follows  this  taste  so  passionately  as  to  seem 
more  at  home  in  the  old  and  the  distant  than  in  the  new 
and  the  near.  Such  a  boy  often,  in  the  first  gush  of  his 
historic  enthusiasm,  thinks  and  talks  more  of  Athens  and 
Pericles,  of  Rome  and  Julius  C?esar,  of  Moscow  and  Napo- 
leon, than  he  does  of  the  places  and  the  men  that  are  pre- 
sent to  his  senses.  This  taste  is  also  conspicuous  in  the 
earnest  and  thoughtful  among  so-called  well-informed  men, 
as  the  steady  and  sturdy  mechanic  or  farmer  who  thinks 
for  himself,  who  expresses  opinions  on  public  aifaire  to 
which  other  men  listen  in  a  debating-club  or  a  town-meet- 
ing, or  when  occupied  in  earnest  talk  at  a  shop  or  grocery. 

125 


126  Books  and  Reading.  [Cdap.  xi. 

Now  and  then  wo  meet  with  a  tlioughtfal  old  lady  or  an 
intelligent  old  gentleman,  to  whom  history  has  all  their  life 
been  both  instruction  and  pastime,  and  the  result  is  seen 
and  felt  in  the  mellowed  and  comprehensive  views  which 
they  utter  upon  every  subject  of  which  they  chance  to  speak. 
They  are  rightly  revered  as  the  oracles  of  their  circle. 

History  has  also  a  kind  of  precedence  from  having  been 
the  first  form  of  writing.  Books  of  history  arc  the  oldest 
written  productions.  This  was  both  natural  and  necessar}\ 
The  child  of  modern  times  sits  on  the  father's  knee,  to  lis- 
ten to  the  stories  of  what  happened  in  his  childhood  to 
himself  and  his  play-mates — how  they  hunted  in  the  forest  / 
and  sported  on  the  holidays.  And  so,  as  we  may  believe,  / 
was  it  in  the  earlier  times.  In  the  morning  of  the  race,  L-^ 
the  reverent  family  and  the  deferential  tribe  gathered  often  /  ^  ^ 
about  their  patriarch  to  hear  the  story  many  times  repeated, 
of  those  whom  he  had  known — brave  ^v•arriors,  great  hun- 
ters, sagacious  inventors  and  skilful  artists.  As  soon  as 
language  was  framed  into  connected  phrases,  history  began 
to  be  recited.  The  story-teller,  as  he  wrote  or  read  upon 
the  monument  of  stone  or  wood  the  names  of  great  men  or 
the  dates  of  great  events,  would  expound  at  length  the 
tales  of  which  these  names  and  numbers  were  only  the 
suggestive  texts.  Now  and  then,  if  he  had  a  rhythmic 
tongue  and  a  vivid  imagination  he  would  frame  history 
into  a  ballad — like  the  song  of  Chevy  Chase,  or  tho  ballads 
collected  by  Scott  in  "The  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Bor- 
der," or  by  Percy  in  "The  Reliques  of  English  Poetry," 
or  "  Frithiof's  Saga  " — which  he  would  recite  to  his  family 
or  clan,  in  the  long  twilight,  or  under  the  bright  starlight, 
or  in  the  deep  arctic  nights.  Others  would  recite  to 
crowds  on  festive  occasions — as  at  the  feast  of  Tabernacles 
among  the  Jews;  or  at  the  Olympic  games  among  the 
Greeks  when  the  poems  of  Homer  were  chanted  in  reciti- 
tive ;  or  as  in  the  middle  ages  the  wandering  bard  made 


Chap.  XL]        History  and  Historical  Reading.  127 

himself  welcome  by  his  impassioned  histories  in  verse.  In 
many  of  these  earlier  histories,  not  only  the  power  of  de- 
scription was  brought  into  requisition,  but  the  imagination 
was  allowed  the  freest  play.  Literal  truth  was  not  always  so 
much  cared  for  as  an  effective  story,  especially  one  in  favor 
of  the  heroes  or  penates  of  a  family  or  tribe.  Such  stories 
would  grow  most  rapidly  in  transmission,  and  what  was  at 
first  a  somewhat  faithful  narration,  would  soon  become 
more  or  less  of  a  poetic  exaggeration.  When  History 
begins  to  be  written  for  the  sober  ends  of  truth,  as  by 
Herodotus,  its  so-called  Father,  there  is  manifest  abundant 
credulity  and  play  of  fancy.  This  spirited  and  cheerful 
narrator,  with  much  that  was  true  and  well-attested, 
gathered  together  somewhat  loosely  much  that  he  had 
picked  up  in  his  travels  of  the  traditions  that  had  come 
down  from  preceding  generations  in  their  narratives  and 
songs,  their  epics  and  fictions.  These  being  currently  re- 
ported, when  they  were  once  written  down  and  read, 
would  obtain  a  sort  of  credit  and  footing  in  the  faith  of  the 
world.  People  are  so  eager  to  know  something  of  other 
times  and  of  distant  countries,  that  if  anything  passes  cur- 
rent as  a  story  it  is  soon  accepted  as  a  fact. 

This  is  the  first  stage  of  historical  writing — the  period  of 
simple  and  na'if  narration,  largely  intermixed  with  what  is 
purely  imaginative  and  fictitious.  It  confines  itself  to  re- 
cording such  facts  as  strike  the  imagination  and  interest 
the  feelings,  especially  of  admiration  and  reverence ;  follow- 
ing the  method  of  simple  narration,  with  large  credulity, 
few  critical  attempts  to  distinguish  between  truth  and 
falsehood,  and  absolutely  no  philosophy.  As  writers  and 
readers  reach  a  more  sober  and  less  childish  age,  history 
becomes  more  grave  and  dignified  in  its  manner,  and 
events  are  recorded  with  a  more  careful  exactness.  To  the 
imagination  and  feelings  far  less  freedom  is  allowed. 
Facts  and  dates  are  copied  with  care  from  monuments  and 


128  Books  and  Reading »  [Chap.  XL 

records.  But  history  is  still  very  credulous  and  undis- 
criminating ;  its  writers  set  down  without  sifting  the  most 
of  what  they  find  recorded  or  hear  reported  without  weigh- 
ino-  authorities  or  adjusting  conflicting  testimonies.  It  is  to 
be  noticed  also,  that  only  the  so-called  great  personages  and 
great  events,  are  deemed  worthy  to  be  recorded.  Great  bat- 
tles, decisive  victories,  the  deeds  of  heroes,  the  lives  of  kings 
and  princes,  of  nobles  and  statesmen ;  the  events  which 
make  one  people  the  conqueror  and  another  the  subject; 
these  stand  conspicuously  forth  from  the  ordinary  level  of 
human  affairs  and  are  alone  thought  deserving  of  preserva- 
tion. The  fortunes  of  the  common  people,  the  condition 
of  those  who  do  not  belong  to  the  court  or  the  aristocratic 
classes,  the  ways  in  which  they  lived,  tilled  the  soil,  built 
houses,  sat  at  their  tables,  slept  in  their  beds,  navigated 
rivers  and  the  sea  or  traveled  by  land,  their  customs  and 
rites,  their  manners  and  feelings,  their  thoughts  and  tlieir 
faiths,  these  are  overlooked  as  beneath  the  so-called  dignity 
of  history.  The  great  events  judged  worthy  of  notice  are  set 
forth  in  an  exaggerated  style,  such  as  impresses  the  ima- 
gination and  excites  the  wonder  of  the  commonalty. 
Partly  from  the  natural  operation  of  reverence  and  the 
nobler  sentiments  of  respect,  and  partly  from  the  esalted 
imagination  of  the  narrator,  the  great  men  of  the  past  are  set 
forth  in  gigantic  outline  and  intensified  coloring  as  something 
superhuman.  All  men  were  giants  in  the  ancestral  days,  as 
the  writer  describes  and  as  the  reader  conceives  them. 
Many  of  the  classic  historians  write  in  this  vein,  as  Livy 
and  Plutarch;  and  almost  all  of  the  modern  writers  of  ancient 
history,  till  a  comparatively  recent  period,  have  imitatetl 
very  closely  their  style  and  spirit.  As  we  read  Plutarch's 
Lives,  or  R,ollin's  Ancient  History,  we  seem  to  be  lifted 
above  the  actual  solid  earth  of  every  day  life,  and  to  fly 
or  float  in  a  sort  of  cloud  or  enchanted  land.  Lofty  forms 
stalk  before  us,  stately  and  long-robed  personages,  always 


Chap.  XI.]        History  and  Historical  Reading.  129 

in  attitudes  of  superhuman  dignity  or  grace,  never  speak- 
ing except  as  they  utter  short  orations  or  weighty  apo- 
thegms, enacting  no  deeds  except  deeds  of  staid  and  awe- 
inspiring  solemnity.  The  events  with  which  we  are  con- 
fronted are  all  more  weighty  and  significant  than  those  to 
which  we  are  accustomed  in  our  daily,  or  even  in  our 
modern  life.  They  cannot  be  compared  with  these.  To 
conceive  of  them  or  to  measure  them  by  the  common  men 
and  the  common  things  of  our  time  and  of  modern  days, 
would  be  to  degrade  the  events  and  to  dishonor  ourselves. 
The  whole  impression  is  solemn,  stage-like  and  magnifi- 
cently imposing,  as  when  a  familiar  scene  is  viewed  by  the 
weird  moonlight — half  elevating,  half  bewildering,  but 
always  impressive  and  disposing  to  admiration  and  reve- 
rence. We  may  say,  indeed,  of  the  impression  received  by 
the  readers  of  the  great  men  of  antiquity  as  described  by 
Plutarch,  that  it  is  not  unlike  that  made  by  the  statuary 
in  the  Vatican,  or  at  the  Louvre,  as  exhibited  by  torch- 
light, when  the  effect  of  every  object  is  exalted  and  made 
mysterious  by  the  unnatural  lights  and  shadows  that  play 
upon  them,  and  the  witchery  of  the  scene  is  heightened  by 
the  back-ground  of  impenetrable  darkness  beyond.  Many 
of  the  histories  of  tlie  ancients  by  the  moderns,  were  in  a 
certain  sense  little  more  than  transcripts  from  such  ancient 
originals.  The  early  legends  were  all  faithfully  copied  by 
most  of  these  historians,  some  of  them  beino;  recosrnized  as 
exaggerations  or  myths  with  a  slender  basis  of  fact,  and 
others  as  being  of  uncertain  import ;  but  no  serious,  cer- 
tainly no  successful  attempt  was  made  to  discover  what 
was  true  or  certain.  Many  of  the  extravagant  stories  and 
improbable  events  were  set  down  as  true,  and  all  the  judg- 
ments of  both  men  and  events  were  in  the  highest  degree 
credulous  and  timid.  The  surprising  deeds  of  the  heroic 
ages  and  the  superhuman  virtues  of  the  ancient  republics 
— the  simplicity,  fidelity  and  patriotism  reported — were  all 


130  Books  and  Reading,  [Chap.  xi. 

confided  in,  and  it  was  scarcely  even  suspected  that  any  of 
the  traditions  of  the  ancients  themselves  might  require  a 
careful  scrutiny  and  a  critical  revision. 

The  modern  histories  of  modern  events  have  been  too 
often  written  in  the  same  exaggerated  and  undiscriminating 
manner.  The  common  stock  histories  of  England  and  the 
United  States  are  almost  universally  in  this  vein,  begin- 
ning with  the  well  known  older  histories  and  coming  down 
to  the  declamatory  laudations  of  Bancroft,  and  the  curt  and 
biting  sentences  of  Hildreth. 

Tlie  names  of  Hildreth  and  Bancroft  as  well  as  those  of 
]\Iitford  and  Gibbon,  Hume  and  Burnet,  Lingard  and 
Neal,  suggest  the  remark  that  history  in  all  its  forms, 
whether  ancient  or  modern,  is  liable  to  be  written  in  a 
'partisan  spirit.  The  ancient  writers  have  long  been  recog- 
nized even  to  the  uncritical  and  trusting  eyes  of  their 
admirers,  as  not  altogether  unbiassed  in  their  sympathies 
and  antipathies.  Even  honest  old  Homer  tells  tlie  largest 
and  the  most  favorable  stories  of  his  favorite  Greeks  and 
makes  the  gods  sympathize  a  little  unfairly  with  Achilles, 
while  the  gossiping  Herodotus  uniformly  flatters  his  favor- 
ite nations.  As  Ave  come  down  into  the  region  of  histoiy 
that  is  more  sober  and  accurate,  we  find  that  almost  every 
author  writes  in  the  interest  of  some  political  party,  some 
social  caste,  or  some  favorite  hero.  Even  those  grave  and 
judicial  old  narrators,  who  look  and  write  in  such  a  solemn 
and  stately  way,  are  not  always  so  disinterested  as  they 
seem,  but  contrive  to  set  off  their  impressions  concerning 
men  and  things  to  the  advantage  or  disadvantage  of  those 
whom  they  like  or  dislike.  They  do  not  write  in  the  man- 
ner of  special  pleaders  or  retained  advocates  so  obviously  as 
some  of  the  moderns,  for  it  was  inconsistent  Avith  the 
dignity  of  ancient  maimers  to  do  so ;  but  it  is  nlinost  as 
easy  to  be  solemnly  one-sidal  and  unfair  with  the  air  of  a 
judge,  as  to  be  violently  partisan  with  the  gesticulations 


Chap.  XI.]         HMory  and  Historical  Reading,  131 

of  an  attorney.  Modern  History  is  too  extensively  and 
notoriously  partisan,  to  require  any  special  comment. 
Especially  has  the  history  of  England,  which  is  that  with 
which  we  have  the  nearest  concern,  been  written  in  the  in- 
terest and  by  advocates  of  almost  every  shade  of  political 
opinion  and  religious  belief.  There  have  also  been  special 
histories  of  almost  every  party  and  sect,  written  with  more 
or  less  of  partisan  partiality. 

History,  as  we  have  reviewed  it,  has  had  two  distinct 
stages  of  development:  First,  the  narrative,  which  is 
abundantly  imaginative  and  largely  credulous  ;  next,  that 
of  the  sober  and  accurate  narrator,  but  only  of  such  facts  as 
are  stately  and  dignified,  with  a  more  or  less  indiscrimin- 
ate admiration  of  what  is  recognized  as  superhumanly 
great  and  good ;  which  in  turn  has  readily  and  almost  uni- 
formly degenerated  into  a  blind  or  willful  partisanship. 

Within  the  last  fifty  years,  there  has  been  a  decided 
reaction  from  these  excessive  and  mischievous  tendencies. 
This  reaction  has  led  to  a  new  method  of  writing  history; 
which  involves  new  methods  of  studying  and  reading  it. 
History  both  ancient  and  modern  has  been  written  in  what 
is  properly  called  the  critical  s^oirit.  This  has  well- 
nigli  involved  a  revolution  in  the  scrutiny  of  historical 
documents,  and  in  the  judgment  of  historical  focts,  as  well 
as  in  the  spirit  and  aims  in  which  history  is  Avritten  and 
read.  Under  its  influence  it  has  become  almost  necessary 
that  all  history,  both  ancient  and  modern,  should  be  re- 
written. Many  of  the  old  standard  histories  and  histori- 
cal series  have  been  discarded  and  displaced.  Long  scries 
of  uncritical  narrativ^es  like  "The  Ancient  and  the  jNIodcrn 
Universal  History/'  of  some  fifty  volumes,  have  become 
almost  so  much  rubbish.  History  also  is  read  as  it  were 
witli  ncM'  eyes.  This  reaction,  and  tlic  application  of  the 
critical  method,  took  a  distinct  and  recognized  form  under 
the  shaping  genius  of  Niebuhr,  though  eminent  critics  and 


132  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xi. 

scholars  had  prepared  the  way  by  the  method  and  spirit 
in  which  they  had  studied  antiquity  before  his  time.  It 
was  reserved  for  Niel)uhr,  however,  to  accomplish  a 
revolution  in  the  prevailing  ideas  in  respect  to  the  early 
history  of  Rome,  and  in  so  doing  to  establish  and  vindi- 
cate a  new  method  for  the  treatment  of  all  History.  He 
not  only  suggested  but  vindicated  the  position  that  a  large 
portion  of  what  is  recorded  by  Livy  as  historical  truth  is 
little  better  than  a  series  of  mythical  and  exaggerated 
legends  with  a  slender  basis  of  flict.  Much  of  the  history 
of  the  seven  kings  went  the  same  way  with  the  story  of 
the  miraculous  she-wolf  who  suckled  Romulus  and  Remus, 
the  reputed  founders  of  the  Eternal  City.  The  subse- 
quent, and,  till  then,  the  universally  accepted  narratives 
of  the  gravest  and  the  most  trustworthy  historians,  were 
also  revised  with  rigid  care;  being  carefully  tested  by 
close  comparison  with  one  another,  with  the  allusions  of 
contemporaneous  literature,  with  permanent  monuments, 
with  well  known  and  newly  discovered  or  newly  interpre- 
ted inscriptions,  and  last  not  least,  with  the  testimony  of 
languages  and  dialects ;  which,  strange  as  it  may  seem, 
serve  as  the  means  of  correcting  many  errors  and  confirm- 
ing many  conjectures.  Other  writers,  following  the  ex- 
ample of  Niebuhr  and  catching  his  spirit,  have  traversed 
the  same  and  other  fields  of  ancient  history.  Of  histories 
well  known  to  English  readers,  Arnold's  History  of 
Rome,  and  Grote's  History  of  Greece,  are  eminent  ex- 
amples of  the  superiority  of  th6  new  over  the  old  method. 
As  the  result  of  Nicbuhr's  example  and  influence,  not  only 
have  the  fabulous  and  legendary  elements  been  eliminated 
from  the  histories  of  the  older  nations,  but  the  overstrained 
and  exaggerated  conceptions  of  the  men  and  events  which 
had  come  to  us  from  tlie  ancient  Plutarch  and  the  modern 
Rollin,  have  been  toned  down  to  tlie  modesty  of  a  proba- 
ble and  rational  judgment.     The  tendency  to  see  heroes  in 


Chap.  XI.]         JERstory  and  HistorUicd  Reading.  133 

both,  virtue  and  vice  beyond  the  possible  attainments  of 
human  nature,  which  had  free  indulgence,  has  given  way 
to  a  juster  estimate  of  what  was  possible  and  is  therefore 
credible. 

The  old  times,  which  were  ignorantly  admired  and  ex- 
travagantly lauded,  have  been  carefully  measured  by  what 
we  know  of  the  workings  of  the  human  nature  of  to-day. 
The  institutions,  the  principles,  the  passions,  the  aims  and 
the  achievements,  of  such  men  as  Pericles  and  Alcibiades, 
of  Cicero  and  Seneca,  of  Catiline  and  the  Cesars,  have  been 
examined,  not  under  the  colored  lights  of  blind  admiration, 
nor  by  the  weird  lights  of  myth-making  credulity,  nor  the 
false  lights  of  blind  or  lying  partisanship,  but  by  the  dry 
and  white  light,  which  is  reflected  from  the  aims,  principles 
and  passions  of  men  in  similar  circumstances  in  modern 
times — the  good  men  not  being  over  good  for  human  nature, 
and  the  bad  not  so  much,  and  so  desperately,  worse  than 
the  very  bad  of  later  times.  In  short,  the  historian  has 
learned  to  measure  the  ancient  world  by  the  modern  world, 
instead  of  by  an  extravagant  and  distorted  creation  of  his 
own  bewildered  admiration  and  his  excited  fancy ;  because 
the  modern  is  known  to  be  the  actual  world,  and  as  such 
illustrates  those  permanent  laws  and  forces  of  humanity,  by 
Avhich  alone  all  history,  M'hether  old  or  recent,  can  be 
rationally  estimated  and  judged.  But  w^hile  this  critical 
tendency  has  dissipated  what  is  false  and  extravagant  in  the 
pictures  and  conceptions  of  ancient  life,  it  has  established 
more  firmly  and  set  in  bolder  relief  whatever  is  true,  though 
it  be  peculiar  and  even  supernatural.  While  it  has  ex- 
plained the  myths  and  legends  of  superstition  and  credulity 
in  the  false  religions  that  cloud  the  morning  of  the  historic 
period,  it  has  justified  and  confirmed  the  miracles  that  are 
so  appropriate  to  simpler  times,  Avhich  have  so  fitly  signal- 
ized the  presence  of  One  who  is  higher  than  nature,  and 
introduced  those  manifestations  of  his  moral  character  and 


134  Boolca  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xi. 

his  loving  care  which  have  been  required  in  the  world's 
moral  history.  The  same  criticism  which  has  proved  so 
destructive  to  the  myths  of  Grecian  and  the  legends  of 
Roman  story,  has  proved  itself  most  positive  and  construc- 
tive when  applied  to  the  miraculous  and  supernatural 
which  are  alone  adequate  to  explain  the  rise  and  develop- 
ment of  the  Mosaic  and  Christian  economies.  This  has 
been  the  actual  result  of  the  most  careful  and  critical  inves- 
tigation of  the  two  by  some  of  the  most  eminent  students 
of  the  new  historical  school.  N^iebuhr  himself,  after  some 
sharp  experiences  of  misgiving  lest  the  miraculous  in  the 
Old  and  New  Testaments  should,  under  the  critical  method, 
go  the  same  way  with  tlie  mythological  in  the  Roman  and 
Greek  History,  writes  thus  concorning  tho  education  of  his 
son  :  "  While  I  shall  repeat  and  read  the  old  poets  to  him 
in  such  a  way  that  he  will  undoubtedly  take  the  gods  and 
heroes  for  liistorical  beings,  I  shall  tell  him  at  tlie  same 
time  that  the  ancients  had  only  an  imperfect  knowledge  of 
the  true  God,  and  that  these  gods  Avere  overthrown  when 
Christ  came  into  the  world.  He  shall  believe  in  the  letter 
of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  and  I  shall  nurture  in 
him,  from  his  infancy,  a  firm  faith  in  all  that  I  have  lost 
or  feel  uncertain  about."  His  biographer  records  further, 
that  "The  Word  made  Flesh — the  Divine  brought  into 
visible  contact  with  the  Human,  and  finding  an  historical 
embodiment  in  an  individual — was  a  doctrine  that  found  a 
warm  response  in  a  mind  so  full  of  earnest  as])iration  to- 
wards heaven,  and  at  the  same  time  so  thoroughly  histori- 
cal in  its  views  of  ihc  world.  His  personal  reverence  for 
Christ  Avas  a  sentiment  that  deepened  with  the  progress  of 
his  life.  .  .  .  He  once  exclaimed,  in  the  course  of  an 
argument  with  the  present  [former]  King  of  Prussia,  'I 
would  lay  my  head  on  the  block  for  the  divinity  of  Jesus ! ' " 
{Life  and  Letters,  etc.)  Arnold  observes:  "The  miracles  of 
the  Gospel  and  those  of  later  hbtory,  do  not  stand  upon 


Chap.  XI.]         History  and  Historical  Reading.  135 

the  same  ground.  I  do  not  think  that  they  stand  on  tlie 
same  ground  of  external  evidence;  I  cannot  think  tliat  the 
unbelieving  spirit  of  the  Roman  world,  in  the  first  century, 
was  equally  favorable  to  the  origination  and  admission  of 
stories  of  miracles,  with  the  credulous  tendencies  of  the 
middle  ages.  But  the  difierence  goes  deeper  than  this  to 
all  those  who  can  appreciate  the  other  evidences  of  Christi- 
anity, and  who,  therefore,  feel  that  what  we  call  miracles 
were  but  the  natural  accompaniments  of  the  Christian 
revelation — accompaniments,  the  absence  of  which  would 
Lave  been  more  wonderful  than  their  presence.  This,  as 
I  may  almost  call  it,  a  prion  probability  in  favor  of  the 
miracles  of  the  Gospel  cannot  be  said  to  exist  in  favor  of 
those  of  later  histqry." — (Lectures  on  the  Study  of  Ilodem 
History,  ii.)  Again,  "Strauss  writes  about  history  and 
myths,  without  appearing  to  have  studied  the  question,  but 
having  heard  that  some  pretended  stories  are  mythical,  he 
borrows  this  notion  as  an  engine  to  help  him  out  of  Christi- 
anity. But  the  idea  of  men  writing  mythic  histories  be- 
tween the  time  of  Livy  and  Tacitus,  and  of  St.  Paul  mis- 
taking such  for  realities  !" — (3Iemoirs,  etc.) 

If  we  pass  to  the  modern  histories  of  modern  times, 
which  have  been  written  with  the  true  historic  spirit,  v.e 
find  that  they  have  been  as  truly  improved  by  the  new 
method  as  the  histories  of  the  ancient  world.  The  tone  of 
blind  admiration  and  of  exaggerated  laudation  has  been 
sensibly  lowered,  the  intense  and  bigoted  partisanship  has 
been  exposed  and  answered  by  counter-criticism,  or  has 
quietly  given  way  before  the  more  judicial  spirit  of  a  cooler 
judgment. 

One  improvement  is  especially  noticeable  in  modern  his- 
tory, if  it  be  not  almost  a  revolution.  This  is  the  fact, 
that  much  less  is  made  of  the  so-called  great  events  of  his- 
tory now  than  formerly.  As  history  has  learned  new  no- 
tio:is  of  its  own  dignity,  it  attaches  less  importance  to  the 


136  Books  and  Heading,  [Chap.  XL 

fortunes  of  princes,  the  movements  of  generals,  and  the  is- 
sues of  campaigns,  and  occupies  itself  far  more  earnestly 
and  busily  with  the  condition  of  the  middling  and  lower 
classes,  with  their  progress  in  civilization,  in  political  free- 
dom, in  wise  laws,  general  education,  and  the  security  of 
property,  as  well  as  in  general  thrift,  prevailing  frugality, 
courteous  manners,  moral  principle,  and  religious  faith. 
History  has  become  more  humane  and  democratic  as  it  has 
become  more  critical  and  just.  It  loolcs  beneath  the  sur- 
face of  events  for  the  springs  of  action.  It  searches  under 
facts  for  principles.  It  strives  to  discover  the  great  laws 
of  progress  and  stability  in  the  world's  evolution.  It  re- 
gards moral  interests  as  higher  than  physical,  the  faith  and 
heroism  of  a  people  and  a  period  as  of  greater  conscqucuco 
than  the  external  and  physical  events  which  distinguished 
either.  Hence  it  tends  to  be  more  ethical,  more  reverent, 
and  more  religious,  while  it  is  also  more  candid  and  toler- 
ant. 

Two  characteristics  are  especially  worthy  of  notice  in 
the  tendencies  of  modern  history.  It  is  at  once  more  ma- 
ginative  and  more  philosophical. 

The  new  history  employs  the  imagination  more  liberally 
and  yet  more  wisely  than  did  the  old.  While  it  docs  not 
yield  indiscriminately  to  its  direction  so  as  to  be  misled  by 
its  vagaries,  it  avails  itself  freely  of  its  guidance  and  aid 
that  it  may  more  perfectly  and  vividly  reproduce  the  past. 
The  historian  no  longer  conceives  the  past  to  have  been  so 
utterly  unlike  the  present  as  to  allow  him  to  credit  all  the 
fantastic  creations  of  the  mythological  and  the  credulous 
school,  but  rather  conceives  it  to  have  been  so  nearly  like 
the  present  as  to  justify  him  in  freely  using  the  present 
that  he  may  more  vividly  picture  and  reproduce  the  past  as 
it  was.  Hence  it  is  the  persistent  effort  of  the  modern  his- 
torian to  revive  the  past  by  means  of  every  possible  ap- 
pliance of  which  he  can  avail  himself.     He  continually 


Chap.  XI.]         History  and  Historical  Beading.  137 

asks  himself,  How  did  men  live  in  the  earlier  times,  what 
Bort  of  houses  did  they  build,  how  did  they  light  and 
warm  them,  at  what  sort  of  tables  did  they  eat,  and  of 
what  food,  and  how  was  this  cooked  and  served,  on  what 
seats  did  they  sit,  in  what  beds  did  they  sleep,  how  were 
they  dressed,  of  what  material  was  their  clothing  made, 
and  into  what  sort  of  garments  was  it  shaped,  how  did 
they  travel  and  visit,  in  what  fashion  did  they  greet  one 
another  ?  So  minute  have  been  these  inquiries,  and  so  suc- 
cessfully have  they  been  answered  by  the  aid  of  the  paint- 
ings, and  mummies  of  Egyptian  tombs,  by  bas-reliefs  on 
Assyrian  monuments,  by  Greek  and  Roman  statues  and 
inscriptions,  as  also  by  the  exhumations  of  Pompeii  and 
Herculaneum,  that  it  seems  now  almost  possible  to  build 
again  a  Grecian  and  Roman  house,  to  provide  it  with  im- 
plements and  furniture,  and  to  reproduce  in  detail  all  the 
particulars  of  ancient  life.  In  the  same  way  the  historian 
of  Old  or  New  England  of  two  hundred  years  ago,  con- 
cerns himself  with  thousands  of  details,  which  enable  his 
reader  vividly  to  imagine  how  the  people  actually  lived, 
what  was  the  daily  aspect  and  history  of  a  street  in  Lon- 
don or  in  Boston,  what  was  the  method  of  spending  a  day 
or  a  week  by  a  merchant  or  a  farmer,  a  laborer  or  a  pro- 
fessional man. 

\yhat  is  of  far  greater  consequence,  the  historian  asks 
and  can  answer.  How  did  the  men  of  other  times  think 
and  feel  in  regard  to  the  great  and  small  things  which  in- 
terest the  human  race  in  all  times  ?  What  was  the  measure 
of  their  knowledge  and  of  their  intellectual  power  ?  What 
were  their  loves  and  hatreds  toward  God  and  man?  He 
seeks  to  place  himself  within  their  very  souls,  so  as  to 
gaze  on  the  visible  creation  with  their  eyes,  to  meet  his 
fellows  with  their  loves  and  hatreds,  to  scan  the  firmament 
with  their  infinite  longings  or  their  shivering  terror,  to  seek 
after  God  with  their  awe  or  their  longings.     In  all  such 


138  Books  and  Beading,  [Chap.  xi. 

efforts  of  history  the  imagination  must  be  largely  em- 
ployed ;  but  it  is  employed  in  the  service  and  for  the  ends 
of  truth.  It  does  not  dress  up  its  ideals  of  past  genera- 
tions with  impossible  and  therefore  fantastic  perfections, 
nor  does  it  make  them  stalk  forth  in  robes  of  gorgeous 
stateliness,  nor  does  it  bring  them  in  fant^istic  conflicts  like 
the  spectred  hosts  of  departed  warriors  such  as  are  seen  by 
a  belated  shepherd  far  off  in  cloud-land  above  some  real 
battle-field,  but  it  seeks  to  conceive  these  generations  as 
they  actually  lived  and  acted,  thought  and  felt.  The 
power,  when  trained  and  used  in  tlio  search  after  historic 
truth,  becomes  what  is  called  The  Historio  Imagination, 
which  by  long  practice  becomes  so  discriminating  and  so 
trustworthy  as  to  be  termed  The  Historic  Sense.  It  is  not 
till  the  imagination  is  thus  matured  that  a  man  is  able  to 
appreciate  adequately  the  literature  of  other  nations  and 
other  times  than  his  own.  He  must  first  understand  the 
times  in  which  its  speeches  and  essays,  its  poems  and  its 
plays,  its  novels  and  its  sermons  were  composed,  in  order 
to  judge  of  them  by  their  relations  to  the  men  by  whom 
and  for  whom  they  were  written.  When  thus  heard  and 
read  they  are  received  as  fir  more  real  and  living,  and  are 
judged  with  a  far  more  sensitive  and  just  appreciation 
than  they  possibly  could  be  if  read  or  judged  apart  from 
the  forces  which  produced  them  or  the  conditions  under 
which  they  came  into  being.  What  is  more  important 
Btill,  the  actions  of  the  men  of  another  age  are  studied  in 
the  light  of  the  knowledge  which  they  actually  attained, 
the  aims  which  they  proposed,  and  the  motives  by  which 
they  were  impelletl.  Wliat  would  be  inexplicable  if  .done 
in  our  times  can  be  accounted  for  if  allowed  in -other »days. 
What  in  our  day  would  be  a  work  of  cruelty  atul  revenge 
is  excused,  palliated,  or  even  justified,  when  traced  to  the 
motives  and  feelings,  which  occasioned  it.  What  seems 
laughable  and  grotesque,  formal  and   superstitious,  when 


Chap.  XI.]         History  and  Historical  Reading.  139 

looked  at  with  our  eyes,  is  grave  and  proper,  natural  and 
rational,  when  looked  at  through  the  eyes  of  the  men  of 
other  times,  as  we  are  enabled  to  do,  by  the  cultured  his- 
torio  sense  when  this  is  quickened  and  guided  by  the  his- 
tor'iG  imagination. 

As  the  result  of  this  liberal  and  wise  use  of  the  ima- 
gination, history  has  become  more  true  and  more  just  in 
its  judgments  as  well  as  more  elevating  in  its  lessons  and 
influence  than  formerly.  The  more  vividly  and  fully  we 
represent  the  men  and  the  scenes  of  other  times,  the  more 
entirely  shall  we  do  justice  to  them.  The  more  thorough- 
ly we  understand  events  in  their  motives  and  principles, 
the  more  truthfully  shall  we  estimate  and  weigh  them. 
The  new  method  educates  and  elevates  the  imagination,  as 
well  as  employs  it  as  an  auxiliary  to  truth.  We  read  and 
study  history  somewhat  as  we  read  and  study  the  drama, 
viewing  it  as  a  grand  spectacle  of  the  past  that  is  vividly 
reproduced  in  scenery,  personages,  and  events;  that  fixes 
our  attention,  excites  our  curiosity,  and  kindles  our  sympa- 
thies. As  the  actual  drama  is  fitted  to  ennoble  the  ima- 
gination and  purify  the  passions,  so  does  dramatized  his- 
tory act  with  even  greater  energy  in  these  directions,  when 
it  is  fitly  rendered  by  the  writer  and  justly  conceived  by 
the  reader.     These  .thoughts  lead  us  to. 

The  second  characteristic  stated,  viz.,  that  the  New  His- 
tory is  more  philosophical  than  the  old.  It  recognizes 
more  distinctly  the  truth  that  all  historic  events  are  to  be 
explained  by  certain  causal  influences  or  agencies,  which 
are  furnished  in  man's  own  nature,  in  the  circumstances 
of  his  condition,  and  in  the  purposes  of  the  living  God. 
Dlflbrent  historians  differ  in  the  variety  of  the  agencies 
which  they  recognize,  in  the  importance  which  is  to  be  at- 
tached to  each,  and  in  the  power  of  harmonizing  one  with 
another;  but  all  agree  that  to  some  agencies  or  principles, 
acting  after  fixed  methods   or  rules,  all    great  historical 


140  Books  and  Heading.  [Chap.  xi. 

events  are  to  be  ascribed,  and  that  the  problem  of  history 
and  the  duty  of  the  historian  is  to  discover  what  these 
principles  are.  The  histocian  nowadays  is  not  content  to 
entertain  his  readers  with  striking  descriptions  of  tlie 
startling  events  which  give  to  history  its  dramatic  interest, 
nor  to  paint  to  the  life  the  story  of  those  great  personages 
who  illustrate  the  pathos  and  power,  the  tenderness  and 
energy  of  human  passion,  but  he  seeks  also  to  explain  his- 
toric phenomena  both  the  greater  and  the  less — by  their 
principles  and  laws. 

To  determine  what  are  the  principles  and  what  the  laws 
which  underlie  all  these  events  is  the  aim  of  what  is 
technically  called  The  Philosophi/  of  History.  Much  is 
made  of  this  phrase  in  our  times.  To  many  persons  it 
suggasts  something  very  profound,  attractive,  and  incom- 
prehensible. To  others  it  is  big  with  high-sounding  ver- 
biage, transcendental  pretension,  attenuated  Pantheism,  or 
depressing  Fatalism.  But  there  ought  to  be  no  special 
mystery  in  the  phrase.  If  a  philosophy  of  the  universe 
of  spirit  and  matter,  is  possible  in  its  present  manifesta- 
tions, then  a  philosophy  is  possible  of  the  past  history  of 
man,  from  which  lessons  of  instruction  may  be  derived,  and 
if  need  be,  of  monition  for  the  future.  As  there  is  a 
variety  of  theories  of  the  present,  each  one  of  which  may 
be  incompatible  with  the  other,  so  there  may  be  an  equal 
variety  of  philosophies  of  the  past.  A  INIohammcdan,  a 
Mormon,  a  Brahmin,  and  a  Christian,  would  necessarily 
have  each  a  peculiar  philosophy  of  history.  It  need  not 
be  a  mystery  or  a  wonder  that  a  materialist  and  a  spiritua- 
list, a  necessitarian  and  a  believer  in  freedom,  should  each 
interpret  the  history  of  man  after  a  fasliion  of  his  own. 
One  who  studies  man  as  an  animal  only,  and  recognizes 
no  other  forces  and  laws  than  those  Avhich  are  vital,  will 
of  necessity,  like  Draper,  make  physiology  the  basis  of  his 
Philosophy  of  History,  or  rather,  he  will  resolve  all  his- 


Chap-  XL]       History  and  Historical  Reading.  141 

torical  into  pliyslologioal  phenomena,  whether  they  are 
material,  vital,  or  spiritual.  Temperature  and  moisture, 
of  a  certain  degree  and  quantity,  acting  on  certain  chemi- 
cal combinations  of  nitrogen,  carbon,  phosphorus,  etc.,  are 
the  formula)  by  which  historical  phenomena  can  all  be  ex- 
plained. Napoleon  and  Waterloo,  Abraham  Lincoln  and 
Bull  Run,  General  Lee  and  Appomatox  Court-House,  are 
satisfactorily  accounted  for  by  various  formula),  of  which 
the  terms  are  H,  O,  C,  N,  etc.,  in  various  combinations. 
A  writer  who  recognizes  a  somewhat  wider  range  of  forces, 
some  of  which  are  spiritual,  but  all,  whether  material  or 
spiritual,  obey  mechanical  laws  and  act  by  a  necessitating 
force,  will,  like  Buckle,  evolve  and  explain  all  possible  oc- 
currences and  phenomena  according  to  an  h  priori  neces- 
sity, from  whose  iron  embrace  there  is  no  release.  Tliose 
who,  like  Froude,  believe  in  the  caprices  and  energy  of 
human  passions  and  individual  freedom,  or  who,  like 
Niebuhr,  Arnold,  Goldwin  Smith  and  hosts  of  other  Chris- 
tian historians,  distinctly  recognize  a  Divine  Providence 
fulfilling  merciful  plans  of  human  progress  and  redemp- 
tion, will  have  another  and  a  nobler  philosophy  of  history, 
because  they-accept  a  nobler  philosophy  of  the  universe 
and  of  human  life. 

It  ought  to  be  added  that  to  serve  more  effectually  the 
philosophical  explanation  of  the  Past,  the  great  move- 
ments of  historic  progress  in  separate  lines  and  the  several 
agencies  on  which  they  depend  have  been  treated  of  in 
distinct  works.  Thus  we  have  not  a  few  generalized  his- 
tories, as  of  Commerce,  Geographical  Discovery,  Emigra- 
tion, Philosophy,  Morah,  Literature,  Poetry,  Fiction,  Criti- 
cism, and  even  of  Civilization  itself.  The  treatment  of 
these  topics  of  historic  research  separately  has  this  great 
advantage,  that  it  limits  the  attention  more  effectually  to 
single  classes  of  phenomena,  and  to  the  workings  of  single 
forces.     It  withdraws  the  mind  from  the  more  palpable 


142  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xi. 

and  material  effects  and  causes,  to  the  more  refined  and 
spiritual.  It  enables  each  student  to  look  at  the  history 
of  man  from  that  point  of  view  which  most  interests  his 
own  feelings,  or  bears  upon  his  own  studies,  and  it  saves 
the  general  reader  an  immense  amount  of  special  research 
and  laborious  investigation. 

But  the  impatient  reader,  who  may  have  followed  us 
thus  far,  will  be  likely  here  to  interrupt  us  with  the  in- 
quiry ;  "  But  what  has  all  this  to  do  with  a  course  of  his- 
torical reading  ?  These  general  disquisitions  on  the  writing 
of  history  may  have  some  interest  for  those  who  have  his- 
tory to  write,  but  they  can  have  no  possible  application  to 
those  who  have  history  to  read.  The  progress  and  de- 
velopment of  history,  from  poetic  narration  to  philosophi- 
cal interpretation,  may  be  instructivs  to  learned  students 
but  not  to  general  readers."  To  which  we  reply  :  "  Have 
patience.  History  is  a  vast  jungle,  an  impenetrable  mo- 
rass to  the  reader  who  undertakes  to  find  his  way 
through  it  without  a  guide,  and  even  to  him  who  reads 
the  first  book  which  is  recommended  to  hira,  and  having 
finished  that  seizes  upon  another.  To  read  history  with 
any  profit  or  even  witli  much  satisfaction,  whether  alone  or 
under  the  advice  of  a  sagacious  friend,  one  should  know 
something  of  what  history  is,  and  how  it  is  written,  in 
what  various  forms,  with  what  divei-sity  of  honesty,  truth, 
and  trustworthiness."  To  furnish  this  information,  pre- 
liminary to  special  advice  respecting  the  selection  of  books 
and  the  manner  of  reading  them,  has  been  the  aim  of  this 
chapter. 


-  CHAPTER  Xil. 

HOW  TO  READ  HISTORY. 

It  is  not  easy  to  prescribe  a  course  of  Historical  Read- 
ing for  a  single  individual,  even  though  he  is  an  intimate 
friend,  whose  character  and  culture,  whose  aims  and  ha- 
bits, whose  leisure  and  opportunities  are  all  supposed  to  be 
familiarly  known  to  his  adviser.  It  is  more  difficult  to  do 
it  for  many  persons,  every  one  of  whom  may  differ  from 
the  other  in  every  one  of  these  particulars.  An  extended 
or  general  course  which  might  be  equally  suitable  for  all 
readers,  is  idle  to  think  of.  To  attempt  even  a  selection 
of  the  best*  authors,  without  knowing  somewhat  intimately 
the  pereon  for  whom  they  arc  chosen,  would  be  foolish  and 
futile.  All  that  we  propose  to  do  is  to  lay  down  a  few 
principles  which  will  enable  a  reader  to  begin  wisely  and 
to  proceed  with  satisfaction  in  selecting  books  for  himself; 
and  also  to  illustrate  these  principles  by  referring  to  a  few 
authors  of  marked  peculiarities  and  of  unquestioned  ex- 
cellence. 

We  ohsev\e,  first  of  all,  that  a  thorough  mastery  of  the 
field  of  history  must  be  the  work  of  many  years ;  in  some 
sort,  of  a  lifetime.  To  fix  in  the  mind  the  dates  of  the 
most  important  events,  to  impress  the  events  themselves 
upon  the  memory  so  that  tliey  shall  be  permanent  and 
familiar,  to  settle  the  great  questions  which  are  in  dispute 
in  respect  to  facts  and  principles,  to  be  able  to  summon  at 
call  the  great  pictures  which  make  up  the  diorama  of  the 
world's  past,  can  be  achieved  only  by  the  few  students  to 
whom  historical  research  is  the  exclusive  occupation  of 

143 


144  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap,  xil 

their  life.  For  such  we  do  not  write.  They  would  not 
need  our  assistance,  could  we  give  it ;  for  it  is  the  preroga- 
tive of  every  such  student  to  find  his  path  opening  na- 
turally and  easily  before  him  as  he  proceeds.  To  such  the 
author  immediately  in  hand  introduces  many  others  whom 
he  will  wish  to  read.  The  subject  which  at  present  occupies 
the  attention  inevitably  suggests  numerous  kindred  topics. 
In  part  this  is  true  for  the  class  of  persons  for  whom  we 
^\Tite — who  are  supposed  to  be  comparatively  ignorant  of 
booics  and  unpractised  in  reading.  Even  such  readers 
ought  not  to  expect  to  finish  in  a  year  or  two  the  brief 
and  imperfect  course  of  history  which  they  may  immediately 
require.  We  grant,  one  may  learn  a  compcnd  of  events 
or  a  table  of  dates  within  a  few  months.  He  may  commit 
to  memory  an  outline  history  of  Greece  and  Rome,  of 
Europe  in  the  middle  ages,  of  Great  Britain  and  the 
United  States.  But  to  do  this  is  simply  to  lay  the  foun- 
dation and  to  erect  the  scaifolding.  To  master  the  history 
of  these  countries,  so  as  intelligently  to  enjoy  it  and  be  in- 
structed by  it,  requires  a  far  longer  period,  and  must  be,  at 
the  shortest,  the  work  of  several  years  of  earnest  and  aAvak- 
ened  attention.  Moreover,  it  would  not  be  desirable,  were 
it  practicable,  to  finish  such  a  course  of  reading  more 
speedily.  To  read  history  should  be  proposed  by  every 
thoughtful  person  as  the  learning  and  pastime  of  his  entire 
life ;  as  capable  of  perpetually  opening  now  views  of  rc;- 
gions  unseen  before,  and  of  bringing  before  the  same  eye 
fresh  aspects  of  scenes  that  are  none  the  less  interesting  be- 
cause they  have  been  often  revisited.  Indeed,  there  is  an 
important  sense  in  which  it  is  true  that  a  man  must  wait 
till  he  is  somewhat  advanced  in  life  before  he  can  read  his- 
tory with  full  advantage  and  'enjoyment,  because  such  a 
person  only  can  bring  to  it  the  observation  and  interest  fur- 
nished by  actual  experience.  If  "old  experience"  alone,  as 
Milton  suggests,  can  attain  "  to  something  like  prophetic 


Chap.  XII.]  Sow  to  read  History.  1 15 

strain  "  in  its  forecast  of  the  future,  it  is  almost  equally 
necessary  that  one  may  intelligently  appreciate  the  history 
of  the  jmst.  History  to  the  eye  of  the  young  has  the  in- 
terest of  an  exciting  spectacle ;  to  the  old  it  is  as  inspiring 
as  the  counsel  of  a  life-long  friend.  The  youth  gazes  with 
excited  and  breathless  curiosity  upon  the  shifting  panora- 
ma of  great  empires  rising  mysteriously  like  overhanging 
clouds,  of  vast  cities  thronged  with  representatives  from  a 
hundred  nations,  of  endless  caravans  of  barbaric  emigrants; 
of  the  confusion  of  battle,  the  pomp  of  victory,  and  the 
splendor  of  pageants.  All  these  are  to  his  eye  brilliant, 
imposing,  and  exciting.  But^-when  the  same  eye  has  seen 
more  of  living  men  and  of  actual  life,  when  the  man  has 
interpreted  the  causes  and  meditated  upon  the  lessons  of 
the  events  which  have  occurred  within  his  personal  experi- 
ence, then  and  then  only  is  he  prepared  to  gather  instruc- 
tion from  the  story  of  the  past,  because  in  the  men  and  the 
events  which  this  story  records  he  sees  the  counterpart  of 
what  has  passed  beneath  his  personal  observation.  To  the 
young,  history  must  be  an  exciting  drama  or  a  painful 
task ;  to  the  old,  it  is  as  fresh  as  a  fairy  tale,  and  as  in- 
structive as  the  lessons  of  a  patriarch. 

Those  persons  who  are  impatient  to  acquire  in  a  twelve- 
month a  satisfactory  knowledge  of.  history,  or  who  expect 
or  wish  to  finish  up  their  reading  in  order  that  it  may  be 
done  with  and  laid  aside,  might  almost  as  well  not  begin 
at  all,  for  by  such  history  can  be  read  only  for  convenience 
or  show,  and  to  them  it  can  bring  little  instruction  and  less 
enjoyment.  There  are  not  a  few  who,  having  just  left 
school  or  college,  say  to  themselves,  "  A  man  must  know 
something  of  history,  in  order  to  pass  respectably  with  in- 
telligent people.  Without  having  read  history,  one  can- 
not understand  the  newspapers,  or  take  part  in  conversa- 
tion, or  shine  in  a  debating-club,  or  make  speeches  ;  there- 
fore I  will  take  a  course  in  history — what  is  the  best,  be- 
10 


146       '  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xil. 

cause  the  shortest  and  the  soonest  over  ?"  To  such  persons 
we  would  say  :  "  Study  a  table  of  chronology  as  you  would 
take  a  dose  of  medicine,  or  buy  the  best  and  briefest  com- 
pend  of  universal  history  which  you  can  hear  of,  and 
master  it  because  you  must ;  but  do  not  call  such  occupa- 
tion the  reading  of  history."  This  sort  of  reading  should, 
of  all  others,  be  regarded  as  the  constant  occupation  and 
pastime  of  the  life  of  any  one  who  reads  at  all ;  and  it  is 
well  to  begin  history  as  it  is  to  begin  our  reading  life, 
with  this  view  of  it — to  form  our  plans,  and  to  select  our 
authors  with  these  expectations  distinctly  in  mind. 

There  is  the  greater  need  4>f  cautions  of  this  sort,  for  the 
reason  that  so  many  persons,  under  mistaken  impressions, 
or  by  the  direction  of  stupid  or  thoughtless  advisers,  com- 
mence reading  a  course  of  history  with  such  authors  or 
after  such  a  plan  as  to  be  very  soon  disgusted  and  disap- 
pointed. We  recall  very  distinctly  a  friend  who,  on  finish- 
ing his  college-life,  gave  himself  up  for  a  year  to  what  he 
fondly  anticipated  would  be  "  the  still  air  of  delightful 
studies,"  with  glowing  expectations  of  what  he  should  ac- 
complish and  enjoy  in  a  year  of  general  reading.  To 
master  an  ample  course  of  history  was  his  first  ambition 
and  his  most  attractive  ideal.  He  seated  himself  at  his 
desk  with  the  expectation  of  finishing  this  coui-se  in  a 
twelvemonth,  and  in  order  to  begin  at  the  beginning,  he 
opened  one  of  the  dreariest  and  most  matter-of-fact  books 
that  ever  was  written,  viz. :  The  Old  and  New  Testament 
Connected,  by  Humphrey  Prideaux.  It  was  a  ])art  of  his 
plan  to  follow  this  work  with  another,  which,  if  possible, 
is  more  dreary  and  forbidding,  viz. :  ShuckfoxVs  Sacred 
and  Profane  Hklory  Connected.  But  he  never  got  so  far 
as  Shuckford,  for  the  reason  that,  after  a  few  weeks'  trial 
with  Prideaux — so  many  hours  a  day,  and  so  many  pages 
of  the  wooden  volumes  read  in  a  mechanical  way — he  be- 
came dispirited  and  discouraged,  and  the  course  of  histori- 


Chap.  XII.]  Hov)  to  read  History.  147 

cal  reading  "  never  did  run  smooth  "  with  him,  after  such 
an  inauspicious  beginning. 

Second.  This  instance  may  give  meaning  and  interest  to 
our  next  suggestion,  which  is,  that  liistory,  to  be  wisely 
begun,  should  be  commenced  by  every  person  at  what  is 
the  right  starting-point  for  him.  We  have  already  in- 
sisted that  the  book  on  which  every  man  should  first  lay 
his  hands  is  the  book  which  will  instruct,  amuse,  or  ele- 
vate him  most  in  any  direction  in  which  his  needs  are  the 
most  imperative,  whatever  the  subject-matter  may  be. 
This  rule  is  pre-eminently  good  in  historical  reading.  If 
we  assume  that  the  entire  field  is  to  any  one  unoccupied 
and  unknown,  there  are  yet  certain  countries,  personages 
or  events — one  or  all — of  which  every  man  has  some  im- 
mediate interest  to  know  something.  Whether  his  inter- 
est arises  from  the  curiosity  of  the  inquirer  or  the  useful- 
ness of  that  which  is  to  be  known,  is  unimportant.  At 
this  very  point  should  he  begin.  The  author  who  best 
'meets  this  impending  want,  whether  he  can  do  this  by  his 
ease  of  style,  clearness  of  arrangement,  copiousness  of  infor- 
mation or  elevation  and  truthfulness  of  aim,  is  the  author 
with  whom  he  should  begin.  But  suppose  a  person  has 
few  historic  needs,  at  least  few  of  which  he  is  conscious, 
and  little  or  no  curiosity,  what  shall  be  said  to  him? 
Should  there  be  such  a  person,  we  have  only  to  say,  that 
it  may  be  the  time  has  not  come  for  him — and  it  may„be 
it  ought  never  to  come — to  read  history  at  all.  It  would 
be  safer,  however,  to  deny  that  a  person  ever  existed  who 
is  without  any  historic  curiosity  or  historic  needs,  if  it 
could  only  be  discovered  in  what  direction  they  lie.  With 
some  these  wishes  and  wants  may  turn  u^Jon  that  which  is 
nearest  their  senses, — the  local  history  of  the  town  or 
county  in  which  they  live,  of  the  family  to  which  they 
belong,  or  the  state  or  country  in  which  they  are  born ;  or 
perhaps  their  imagination  may  be  excited  to  ask  questions 


148  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xir. 

concerning  some  prominent  personage  Avhora  they  have 
seen  or  of  whom  they  have  heard,  as  some  great  lawyer, 
physician,  clergyman,  banker,  merchant,  sea-ciiptain,  or 
general.  If  they  are  interested  in  any  trade  or  employ- 
ment, the  history  of  their  own  occupation,  or  of  the  objects 
with  which  it  is  concerned,  may  be  the  history  which  will 
take  the  strongest  hold  of  their  feelings. 

When,  then,  a  man  conies  to  us  with  the  question, 
"  What  history  shall  I  read  first?"  we  reply,  as  we  have 
already  suggested,  with  the  questions :  "  What  history  do 
you  care  to  know  the  most  about  ?  Of  what  country,  or  of 
what  people — of  what  events  or  w^hat  personages  do  you 
wish  or  need  to  be  informed  accurately  and  fully  ?  Con- 
cerning what  great  interest,  as  of  trade  or  commerce,  tariff 
or  business,  of  shipbuilding,  or  invention  in  art  or  litera- 
ture, do  you  at  present  feel  disposcxl  to  ask  the  most  nu- 
merous questions  of  a  friend  or  acquaintance  ?"  If  you  can 
answer  to  yourself  these  questions,  then  you  will  be  able 
to  decide  what  history  you  should  begin  to  read. 

Third.  History  should  be  read  after  the  laws  and  habits 
of  the  kind  of  memory  with  which  the  reader  is  naturally 
endowed,  without  any  violent  efforts  to  resist  or  reform 
these  laws  or  habits.  For  example,  there  are  a  few  per- 
sons who  have  a  natural  memory  for  dates.  They  can 
scan  with  the  eye  or  hear  with  the  ear  the  dates  of  the 
principal  events  of  a  war,  a  reign,  or  a  century,  and  can  fix 
them  with  exactness  so  as  to  recall  them  when  they  are 
wanted.  But  the  majority,  even  of  young  persons — in 
wli'om  the  spontaneous  memory  is  most  active — find  it 
somewhat  difficult  to  imprint  a  table  of  simple  dates  upon 
the  memory.  Those  who  labor  under  this  defect  are  soon 
discouraged  in  the  reading  of  history.  They  complain 
that  before  they  have  finished  a  single  volume  most  of  the 
dates  of  the  events  which  it  records  have  escaped  from 
their  possession.     Of  what  possible  use,  say  they,  can  it  be 


Chap.  XII.]  IIow  to  read  History.  149 

to  read  the  next,  if  even  the  times  and  the  order  of  the 
great  events  which  it  recounts  are  in  like  manner  to  slide 
from  our  recollection  ?  Of  what  use,  if  this  is  continually 
to  happen,  will  it  be  for  us  to  read  history  at  all  ?  To  re- 
lieve the  minds  of  those  who  feel  these  difficulties,  two 
considerations  are  pertinent.  The^^rs^  is,  that  history  may 
inscribe  many  most  valuable  lessons  upon  the  memory  of 
those  who  can  remember  the  dates  of  but  few  of  the  great 
events  which  it  records.  It  is  with  reading  history  very 
much  as  it  is  with  seeing  people  and  observing  the  course 
of  nature.  A  thousand  lessons  may  have  been  impressed 
upon  the  understanding,  a  thousand  most  important  rela- 
tions may  have  been  discerned,  a  thousand  inferences  or 
principles  may  have  been  suggested  or  confirmed,  a  thou- 
sand movements  of  feeling  or  will  may  have  been  evolved 
in  connection  with  a  thousand  persons  and  events  observed, 
of  which  very  few,  and  ])erhaps  none  at  all,  can  be  recalled 
singly  and  in  their  individual  relations.  To  be  profited 
by  history  in  almost  every  way  conceivable,  it  is  by  no 
means  essential  that  we  retain  a  distinct  remembrance  of 
the  individual  facts  which  history  records  and  recites. 
We  would  not  intimate  that  a  knowledge  of  dates  and 
events  is  unimportant,  nor  again  that  strenuous  and  perse- 
vering efforts  should  not  be  made  to  fix  and  hold  them. 
We  would  only  preclude  the  inference  that  great  exactness 
or  facility  in  this  respect  is  essential  to  the  most  import- 
ant uses  of  this  study.  We  would  also  insist  that  any 
range,  exactness,  or  readiness  in  the  memory  of  historical 
facts  is  only  important  so  fiir  as  it  is  attended  with  the  ca- 
pacity to  discern  and  connect  these  facts  by  means  of  their 
higher  relations.  Simple  memory  is  so  very  convenient 
that  it  is  often  greatly  over-valued.  School-teachers  and 
scliool-children,  pedants  and  paragons  of  memory,  who 
can  promptly  tell  you  the  precise  date  of  every  event  in 
history,  plume  themselves  very  often  upon  what  is  merely 


150  BooJcs  and  Heading.  [Chap.  xil 

a  great  intellectual  convenience.  Those  unfortunates,  on 
the  other  hand,  who  are  always  at  a  loss  when  calle<l  on  to 
furnish  such  details  for  themselves  or  others,  are  often 
mortified  and  discouraged  at  their  constantly  recurring 
failures.  For  this  reason  it  needs  often  to  be  repeated  that 
a  knowledge  of  dates  is  chiefly  to  be  valued  because  of  the 
higher  relations  to  which  it  constantly  ministers.  This 
suggests  the  second  consideration  to  which  we  referred, 
viz:  That  when  the  dates  of  history  are  habitually  con- 
templated in  these  higher  relations,  the  study  of  chronology 
becomes  fascinating  and  easy  to  many  who  are  deficient  in 
the  mechanical  memory.  It  may  seem  of  little  import- 
ance to  know,  and  therefore,  it  may  appear  difficult  to  re- 
call, the  precise  number  of  months  or  years  by  which  the 
American  preceded  the  French  Revolution,  or  to  recount 
the  exact  order  of  the  several  events  which  ushered  in  the 
bloody  catastrophe,  and  the  inevitable  reaction  of  the  Di- 
rectory, the  Consulate,  and  the  Empire.  But  viewed  in 
another  light  the  exactest  knowledge  of  these  time-periods 
and  time-epochs  may  be  of  the  greatest  service.  It  may 
even  be  absolutely  essential  to  enable  the  reader  to  estimate 
the  force  and  to  compute  the  laws  of  the  agencies  which 
produced  these  stirring  and  friglitful  phenomena.  At  first 
view,  that  would  seem  to  be  the  most  trivial  coincidence 
which  connects  two  events  together  by  the  relation  of  time 
— as  a  discovery,  an  invention,  a  bold  and  beneficent  en- 
terprise achieved  by  two  or  three  minds  in  the  same  month 
thousands  of  miles  distant.  But  coincidences  of  this  sort 
observed  and  remembered,  illustrate  how  the  thinking  of 
the  race  proceeds  with  an  even  stoj),  and  may  bring  out  the 
exact  occasion  or  condition  which  has  evolved  in  many 
minds  a  similar  intellectual  or  moral  result.  The  exact 
date  of  the  first  emigration  of  miners  to  San  Francisco,  or 
of  the  first  large  shipment  of  gold  from  California  to  New 
York  or  London,  might  be  of  the  first  importance  to  illus- 


Chip,  xil]  How  to  read  History.  151 

trate  the  beginning  of  some  new  movement  of  commerce, 
or  a  new  tendency  in  the  money  markets  of  the  world. 
The  exact  date,  to  the  day  of  the  month,  of  the  proclama- 
tion of  the  Queen  of  England  concerning  the  belligerency 
of  the  parties  in  our  late  civil  war,  is  esteemed  by  many  as 
of  the  greatest  significance  in  determining  what  were  the 
feelings  and  what  the  position  of  the  English  Government 
with  respect  to  the  two  parties. 

We  have  cited  these  examples  to  illustrate  the  truths, 
that  to  any  person  who  reads  history  with  a  moderate  de- 
gree of  intelligence  and  reflection,  the  chronology  of  his- 
tory may  be  invested  with  a  high  intellectual,  and  even  a 
high  moral  interest,  and  that  those  who  study  dates  and 
time  relations  under  these  higher  lights  can  by  degrees 
learn  to  remember  them.  This  is  but  a  special  inference 
and  application  of  the  general  rule  already  laid  down,  that 
every  man  should  read  history  after  the  methods  and  con- 
nections of  his  own  memory.  If  a  reader  has  little  force 
of  that  spontaneous  power  which  reproduces  dates  and 
facts  by  a  mechanical  method,  let  him  learn  to  elevate 
these  dates  and  facts  by  the  dignity  and  interest  which 
belong  to  higher  relations  and  deeper  principles.  If,  on 
the  other  hand,  he  remembers  isolated  facts  and  incidents 
with  ease,  let  him  not  be  content  with  the  convenient  ser- 
vice or  the  doubtful  reputation  of  an  intellectual  instru- 
ment that  passively  depicts  everything  that  has  been  pre- 
sented to  the  mind. 

It  is  interesting  to  notice  how  the  driest  of  all  books, — a 
table  of  dates,  may  to  the  enlightened  eye  become  radiant 
with  instruction  and  interest ;  and  especially  how  a  table 
of  comparative  chronology,  like  the  Oxford  Tables,  or 
those  prepared  primarily  for  the  study  of  Church  History 
by  Dr.  Henry  B.  Smith,  and  many  others,  may  become  a 
most  attractive  manual. 

Against  passive  reading  of  every  kind  we  would  enter 


152  Books  and  Heading.  [Chap.  xii. 

our  repeated  protest  as  an  idling  of  time  and  an  enfeebling 
of  the  powers.  History  tempts  not  a  i'ew  to  such  liablts. 
Many  read  history  as  they  read  a  novel  or  a  drama,  moved 
only  by  the  excitement  of  the  story,  permitting  scarcely  re- 
flection enough  to  assent  to  the  story  as  a  recital  of  actual 
events, — dreaming  over  its  pictures  rather  than  believ- 
ing its  realities,  neither  measuring  its  facts  by  principles, 
nor  deriving  principles  from  its  facts.  Others,  of  an  op- 
posite habit  of  mind,  bestow  so  much  reflection  upon  the 
facts,  that  they  often  forget  the  facts  which  have  suggested 
their  reflections.  They  read  history  very  much  as  an  ab- 
sent-minded man  listens  to  a  concert  or  an  opera,  or  as 
under  a  lecture  or  a  sermon  he  surrenders  himself  so  com- 
pletely to  the  thoughts  which  the  speaker  suggests,  that  he 
forgets  very  much  of  what  the  speaker  has  said.  Such 
persons  bring  away  everything  which  history  can  teach 
them  except  its  facts,  viz.,  the  truth  and  reflections  which  it 
suggests.  A  little  faithful  and  persevering  self-discipline 
would  enable  such  persons  to  remember  both  the  incidents 
and  the  dates,  whicli  their  own  reflections  should  make  per- 
manent by  ennobling  them.  These  thoughts  inculcate  a  con- 
sideration, which  it  will  not  be  wise  to  forget  or  overlook, 
and  that  is,  that  the  reading  of  history  must  be  prosecuted 
somewhat  as  a  study,  in  order  to  be  permanently  pleasant 
or  profitable.  History  need  not  be  learned  as  a  le&son  to 
be  repeated  to  another,  but  the  reading  of  it  should  be  pro- 
secuted with  a  special  Avakefulness  of  attention,  with  con- 
stant and  deliberate  reflection,  and  with  frequent  and  wise- 
ly arranged  reviews.  Particularly  should  history  be  read 
with  some  sort  of  system  at  the  outset,  it  being  always  re- 
membered that  it  should  never  be  regarded  as  an  enforced 
task- work. 

While,  then,  we  should  begin  to  read  historj'  by  using 
the  kind  of  memory  which  we   have   at  command,  we. 
should  not  despair  of  cultivating  our  memory  by  the  very 


Chap.  XII.]  IIow  to  read  History.  153 

act  and  effort  of  reading.  Surprising  achievements  have 
been  accomplished  by  trifling  acts  of  painstaking,  when 
these  have  been  reduced  to  fixed  and  pleasant  habits. 

Fourth.  History  should  always  be  read  with  the  aid  of 
Geography.  If  the  dates  of  the  events  of  History  are  im- 
portant and  instructive,  so  are  the  places  in  which  they 
occur.  Indeed  we  may  say  without  reserve,  that  it  is  im- 
possible to  read  history  with  intelligence,  without  bringing 
distinctly  before  the  eye  of  the  mind  the  place-relations  of 
the  scenes  in  which  these  events  occur.  Nor  does  it  suf- 
fice that  one  should  be  able  to  fix  these  as  presented  by  a 
map,  if  one  cannot  interpret  the  lines  of  the  map  into  pic- 
tures of  boundary  and  surface.  Not  only  should  the  or- 
dinary map  and  atlas  be  kept  constantly  within  reach,  but 
what  are  called  historical  maps  should  be  freely  and  con- 
stantly employed  by  every  reader  of  history  who  can  pro- 
cure them.  These  are  constructed  for  the  special  purpose 
of  representing  to  the  eye  the  various  changes  and  divisions 
of  a  country  which  have  occurred  in  great  historic  periods, 
as  the  result  of  conquest  or  colonization.  These  changes 
are  represented  to  the  eye  by  a  series  of  maps  of  the  whole 
or  a  part  of  a  continent  drawn  to  the  same  scale  and  with 
the  same  completeness  of  physical  features ;  the  growth, 
diminution,  or  absorption  of  its  subordinate  divisions  being 
indicated  by  changes  in  their  variously  colored  boundary 
lines,  and  by  the  presence  or  absence  of  its  marts,  fortresses 
and  Capitols.  The  several  changes  in  Western  Europe 
which  took  place  after  the  French  llevolution  and  during 
the  career  of  Napoleon,  are  most  impressively  depicted  to 
the  eye  by  a  series  of  such  maps,  each  one  of  which  tells 
its  own  story  of  rapid  conquest  and  humiliating  defeat,  of 
sudden  and  surprising  growth,  and  of  contractions  and 
retreats  as  unlooked  for.  The  decisions  of  the  Congress  of 
Vienna  made  it  necessary  to  reconstruct  the  map  of  Eu- 
rope.    No  sooner  had  Prussia  achieved  the  one  victory  of 


154  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xn. 

Sadowa  after  a  seven  weeks'  campaign,  than  the  maps  of 
Germany  were  all  altered,  and  new  maps  of  the  new 
Prussia  were  sold  in  Berlin  before  her  troops  had  returned 
in  triumph  to  the  capital.  A  series  of  good  historical 
maps  of  the  Rise  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  suggests 
volumes  of  Ancient  History.  The  moral  and  political  les- 
sons which  a  few  moments'  inspection  of  a  series  of  such 
maps  is  fitted  to  enforce,  cannot  fail  to  be  noticed  by  any 
thoughtful  mind.  The  career  of  the  great  Napoleon  is 
full  of  admonitory  wisdom  as  it  is  illustrated  to  the  eye 
tliat  follows  his  unbounded  ambitions  and  his  astounding 
achievements, — in  the  expanding  and  still  expanding  lines 
of  the  Empire  which  centred  iu  Paris, — to  that  crisis,  which 
contracted  them  in  a  day  by  the  victory  of  Waterloo,  and 
sent  him  to  the  distant  rock  of  St.  Helena.  Historical 
maps  of  the  great  empires  of  the  ancient  world  are  like  the 
successive  pictures  of  a  prophet's  vision.  Historical  at- 
lasses  have  hitherto  been  almost  inaccessible  to  ordinary 
English  readers,  and  have  been  scarcely  known  except  by 
historical  scholars.  With  a  few  exceptions,  they  have  been 
prepared  by  German  editor,  and  are  not  easily  used  by  a 
person  who  is  ignorant  of  the  German  language.  The 
simple  inspection  of  one  of  the  atlasses  of  JTar^rou/S^Mnnicr 
cannot  fail  to  impress  even  such  a  reader  with  the  great 
utility  of  such  maps  as  an  aid  to  the  reading  of  history.  It 
cannot  be  long  before  appliances  so  useful  and  almost  in- 
dispensable will  be  freely  furnished  to  English  and  Amer- 
ican readers. 

We  name  another  use  of  Geography  in  the  reading  of 
liistory,  which  is  of  far  higher  interest  and  of  nobler  aj)pli- 
cation — its  use  in  the  Philosophy  of  History.  As  the 
dates  of  events  are  often  of  the  greatest  significance  in  ex- 
plaining them,  so  also  is  their  scene  and  place.  The 
j)hysical  features  of  every  country — as  its  mountains, 
coasts,  and  rivers — should  be  carefully  studied,  not  merely 


Chap,  xil]  //ow  to  read  History.  155 

as  they  have  furnished  the  show-place  upon  A^hich,  and  the 
limits  or  framing  within  which,  the  great  transactions  have 
occurred  that  have  made  the  country  famous,  but  as  they 
have  had  a  large  influence  in  determining  what  the  history 
of  the  country  should  be.  As  the  material  has  not  a  little 
to  do  in  determining  what  the  spiritual  and  moral  shall  be 
in  the  development  and  career  of  the  individual  man,  so 
the  study  of  the  physical  geography  of  a  country  is  the  best 
interpreter  of  its  history.  It  often  furnishes  the  only  clue 
by  which  the  student  and  the  reader  can  explain  its  most 
striking  peculiarities.  For  example,  if  we  would  under- 
stand the  peculiar  and  wonderful  history  of  England,  it  is 
not  merely  convenient,  and  in  many  senses  necessary,  to 
know  that  the  island  is  moored  alongside  the  Continent, 
at  a  convenient  and  yet  a  safe  distance  from  France,  Spain, 
Holland  and  Germany  ;  but  it  is  entirely  essential  to  keep 
this  fact  continually  in  mind,  and  to  refer  to  it  again  and 
again,  as  the  one  condition  which  England  required  for  the 
development  of  her  unique  and  marvellous  histoiy,  and 
for  the  attainment  of  her  boasted  imperial  power.  Had 
the  English  channel  been  only  a  little  less  formidable 
than  it  is  in  its  rock-lined  walls,  its  storms,  its  fogs,  and 
its  tides,  England,  might  in  a  half-score  of  instances,  have 
been  possessed  and  overrun  by  foreign  invaders  after  she 
had  become  great  enough  to  tempt  as  a  prize,  or  defiant 
enough  to  invite  as  a  conquest.  Dutch  Fleets,  Spanish 
Armadas  and  French  Expeditions,  in  conjunction  with 
Irish  Rebellions,  Scotch  Risings  and  Romish  Intrigues, 
w^ould,  but  for  this  single  physical  feature  of  England, 
have  figured  very  differently  in  the  changed  history  of  the 
kingdom,  and  in  the  story  of  Protestant  Christianity  and 
of  general  political  liberty.  Indeed,  had  the  English 
channel  been  a  little  narrower  and  its  currents  a  little  less 
fearful.  Protestantism  and  freedom  might  neither  of  them 
have  had  a  permanent  foothold  on  the  earth — assuredly 


156  Boolcs  and  Reading  [Chap.  XH. 

not  upon  Eftglish  soil.  The  free  spirit  of  the  English 
people  would  have  wanted  the  insular  j^rotection  within 
which  to  find  its  free  development,  that  gave  it  a  home 
and  a  fortress  as  against  foreign  assailants,  and  a  conve- 
nient city  of  refuge  for  many  a  noble  exile.  The  seafaring 
tastes  and  the  adventurous  spirit  of  the  English  navigators 
and  traders  owe  to  this  circumstance  their  early  and  mar- 
vellous growth — from  which  originated  the  naval  supre- 
macy, the  colonial  extension,  and  the  enormous  wealth 
of  this  sometimes  unscrupulous  and  always  imperious  peo- 
ple, which  so  long  rejoiced  in  the  exclusive  title  to  the 
dominion  of  the  seas.  But  the  high  tides  and  stormy 
passages  along  the  coasts  of  this  island  would  themselves 
have  accomplished  little  for  England's  power  and  wealth 
had  it  not  been  for  the  coal  and  tin  and  iron  which  were 
also  provided  beneath  her  rocks,  as  the  means  of  develop- 
ing her  manufacturing  skill,  and  of  fabricating  the  metallic 
and  textile  products  with  which  for  so  long  a  period  she 
has  tempted  and  controlled  the  markets  of  the  world. 
Here,  again,  the  proximity  of  England  to  the  Continent, 
with  her  insular  independence  of  it,  were  most  important, 
as  they  enabled  her  government  in  repeated  instances  to 
introduce  skilled  labor  from  Flanders  and  from  France, 
on  critical  occasions,  when  it  was  not  only  convenient  for 
manufacturers  and  artisans  to  leave  their  homes,  but  when 
this  became  necc&sary  if  they  would  save  their  consciences 
and  their  lives.  Thus  did  England,  by  its  })hysi('iil  fea- 
tures, become  not  only  an  asylum  for  many  of  the  noblest 
exiles,  but  she  also  made  of  this  asylum  a  treasure-house 
for  her  future  wejilth  and  a  work-shop  for  the  supi)ly  of 
the  world,  which  in  this  way  betame  her  tributary. 

The  example  of  England  is  one  of  many  wliich  might 
be  adduced  to  illustrate  the  relation  of  physical  geography 
to  history.  The  honor  of  discerning  and  setting  forth  this 
relation  in  its  adequate  and  manifold  importance  belongs 


Chap.  XII.]  How  to  read  History.  157 

to  Professor  Carl  Bitter,  one  of  the  most  eminent  men  of 
the  present  century,  who  was  alike  distinguished  for  his 
vast  learning,  his  historical  sagacity,  and  his  mode.«t  and 
Christian  humility.  His  views  were  given  to  English 
readers  some  years  ago  by  one  of  his  most  •eminent  disci- 
ples. Professor  Arnold  Guyot,  in  "  The  Earth  and  3Ian" 
and  more  recently  in  translations  from  a  few  of  his  works. 
The  intelligent  reader,  however,  needs  only  to  seize  upon 
the  clue  which  Emitter's  speculative  wisdom  has  furnished,  to 
be  able  to  read  history  by  a  new  light  and  with  a  new  in- 
terest, as  he  fijids  the  physical  features  as  well  as  the  geo- 
graphical situation  of  every  country  to  be  essential  to  the 
understanding  of  its  political  and  moral  growth,  and  of 
tlie  part  which  it  has  enacted  in  the  world's  drama. 

The  thought  is  kindred,  but  not  unimportant,  that  to 
understand  and  appreciate  either  history  or  geography  with 
the  highest  profit,  and  especially  to  understand  the  two  as 
mutually  related,  traveling  with  an  intelligent  eye  is  an 
important  auxiliary.  We  would  not  be 'understood  to  as- 
sert or  intimate  that  a  person  who  cannot  travel  cannot  do 
justice  to  the  reading  of  history.  The  fact  is  notorious, 
that  some  of  the  most  intelligent  and  appreciative  students 
of  history  have  traveled  but  little ;  while  hundreds,  if  not 
thousands,  yearly  look  upon  Rome  and  Jerusalem  and  the 
Nile  with  unanointed  eyes,  who  neither  bring  to  tlicse  ex- 
citing places  nor  carry  aAvay  from  them  a  single  historic 
association. 

Nor,  again,  is  it  needful  to  travel  long  distances,  or  to 
visit  many  of  the  seats  of  ancient  or  modern  commerce  and 
empire,  in  order  to  learn  the  most  important  and  the  most 
substantial  lessons  which  travel  is  fitted  to  impart.  A 
journey  of  a  hundred  miles  can  be  turned  by  one  person 
to  uses  that  are  far  more  abundant  and  instructive  than  a 
journey  of  a  thousand  miles  by  another.  The  sagacious 
eye  needs  but  few  hints  or  motives  to  be  able  to  judge  of 


158  Books  and  Reading.  [Cuap.  xil, 

the  remote  by  the  near,  of  the  long  by  the  short,  and  of 
the  great  by  the  small.  Gibbon  found  in  the  study  of 
tactics  which  he  made  as  captain  of  the  Hants  militia  a 
sufficient  preparation  to  enable  him  to  understand  the 
movements  of  the  great  military  leaders  of  the  Roman  em^ 
pire.  "  The  discipline  and  evolutions  of  a  modern  batta- 
lion," he  says,  "  gave  me  a  clearer  notion  of  the  phalanx 
and  the  legion ;  and  the  captain  of  the  Hampshire  gre- 
nadiers (the  reader  may  smile)  has  not  been  useless  to  the 
historian  of  the  Roman  empire."  On  the  other  hand,  no 
intellect  can  be  so  acute,  and  no  imagination  can  be  so  ac- 
tive, as  not  to  be  stinuilated  and  instructed  by  the  excite- 
ments of  the  eye  and  the  ear.  The  traveler  who  has 
crossed  the  Alps  in  person  and  on  foot  will  be  far  more 
likely  to  do  justice  to  the  difficulties  which  impeded  Han- 
nibal ;  and  he  who  has  traversed  Palestine  with  the  Scrip- 
tures in  his  hand  cannot  but  make  more-  .real  to  himself 
and  more  intelligible  the  Old  and  the  New  Testament 
history.  It  is  worth  noticing  that  the  best  historical  writ- 
ers have  almost  uniformly  been  fond  of  traveling.  At 
least,  they  have  had  "  the  topographical  eye,"  and  that  in- 
terest in  natural  scenery  which  seems  to  be  essential  to  the 
vivid  representation  to  the  mind  of  historic  scenes,  events, 
and  personages. 

This  suggests  our  ffth  point,  viz.,  the  use  of  the  ima- 
gination in  the  reading  of  history.  AVhatcly  pertinently 
observes,  in  his  annotations  upon  Lord  Bacon's  Essay  on 
Studies :  "  In  reference  to  the  study  of  hisstory,  I  have 
elsewhere  remarked  upon  the  importance,  among  the  in^ 
tellectual  qualifications  for  such  a  study,  of  a  vivid  ima- 
gination— a  faculty  which,  consequently,  a  skilful  narrator 
must  himself  possess,  and  to  which  he  must  be  able  to 
furnish  excitement  in  others.  Some  may,  perhaps,  be 
startled  at  this  remark  who  have  been  accustomed  to  con- 
sider imagination  as  having  no  other  office  than  to  feign 


Chap.  XII.]  How  to  read  History.  159 

and  to  falsify.  Every  faculty  is  liable  to  abuse  and  mis- 
direction, and  imagination  among  the  rest ;  but  it  is  a 
mistake  to  suppose  that  it  necessarily  tends  to  pervert  the 
truth  of  history,  and  to  mislead  the  judgment.  On  the 
contrary,  our  view  of  any  transaction,  especially  one  that 
is  remote  in  timie  and  place,  will  necessarily  be  imperfect, 
generally  incorrect,  unless  it  embrace  something  more  than 
the  bare  outline  of  the  occurrences;  unless  we  have  before 
the  mind  a  lively  idea  of  the  scenes  in  which  the  events 
took  place,  the  habits  of  thought  and  of  feeling  of  the  ac- 
tors, and  all  the  circumstances  connected  with  the  transac- 
tion ;  unless,  in  short,  we  can  in  a  considerable  degree 
transport  ourselves  out  of  our  own  age,  and  country,  and 
persons,  and  imagine  ourselves  the  agents  or  spectators. 
It  is  from  consideration  of  all  these  circumstances  that  Ave 
are  enabled  to  form  a  right  judgment  as  to  the  facts  which 
history  records,  and  to  derive  instruction  from  it.  To  say 
thiit  the  imagination,  if  not  regulated  by  sound  judgment 
and  sufficient  knowledge,  may  chance  to  convey  to  us  false 
impressions  of  past  events,  is  only  to  say  that  man  is  falli- 
ble. But  such  false  impressions  are  even  much  the  more 
likely  to  take  possession  of  those  whoso  imagination  is  fee- 
ble or  uncultivated.  They  are  apt  to  imagine  the  things, 
persons,  times,  countries,  etc.,  which  they  read  of,  as  much 
less  different  from  what  they  see  around  them  than  is  real- 
ly the  case.  The  practical  importance  of  such  an  exercise 
of  imagination  to  a  full  and  clear,  and  consequently  pro- 
fitable, view  of  the  transactions  related  in  histoiy  can  hard- 
ly be  over-estimated." 

To  stimuliate  and  aid  the  imagination  in  its  efforts  to  re- 
produce the  past,  historical  plays  and  poems,  and  more 
recently  historical  novels,  have  been  abundantly  employed. 
Their  usefulness  has  been  the  subject  of  frequent  discussion 
and  of  various  opinions.  It  has  been  forcibly,  and  perhaps 
not  untruly  said,  that  the  majority  of  the  present  generation 


160  Books  and  Beading.  [Chap.  xil 

of  English  readers  have  learned  more  of  English  history 
from  Sliakspearc  and  Walter  Scott  than  from  the  entire 
library  of  professed  historians.  Of  course  no  man  would 
contend  that  either  Shakspeare  or  Scott  can  be  substituted 
for  the  usual  historical  authorities,  but  only  that  they  may 
supplement  them  in  certain  important  particulars.  Many 
other  historical  plays  and  novels  are  invaluable,  as  enabling 
the  reader  to  enter  more  fully  into  the  spirit  of  past  times. 
They  are  of  especial  service  in  helping  him  to  appreciate 
the  feelings  and  motives  of  prominent  personages,  and 
vividly  to  reproduce  the  manners  and  institutions  of  another 
age.  It  is  not  often  that  an  historical  writer  is  endowed 
with  the  painstaking  zeal  of  the  antiquarian  and  the  creative 
power  "of  the  poet.  If  we  cannot  have  tiie  two  gifts  in  a 
single  writer,  we  must  seek  for  them  apart,  in  the  historian 
and  the  novelist. 

Thackeray's  Henry  Esmond  is  an  admirable  example  of 
a  good  historical  novel,  when  carefully  and  conscientiously 
written  by  a  man  of  rare  gifts,  and  of  a  rarer  honesty.  No 
reader  of  this  tale  of  the  times  of  Queen  Anne  could  fail  to 
derive  from  it  such  impressions  of  the  state  of  manners  and 
of  morals  in  the  higher  circles,  as  well  as  of  the  political 
jealousies  and  the  religious  feuds  which  divided  men  of  all 
classes,  as  no  formal  history  could  possibly  convey — such 
as  even  the  most  abundant  and  painstaking  research  into 
the  less  accessible  sources  of  historical  knowledge  would 
fail  to  impart  to  a  man  of  feeble  capacity  to  picture  and  re- 
combine.  The  service  is  not  a  slight  one  which  is  rendered 
to  the  world,  when  a  painstaking  explorer  of  historic  truth 
like  Thackeray  gathers  his  materials  with  faithful  and 
laborious  research,  and  weaves  them  together  into  so  fasci- 
nating and  instructive  a  story.  But  this  tale,  marvellous  as 
it  is  for  its  elaborated  truthfulness  and  j)icturesque  effects, 
strikingly  illustrates  the  possible  dangers  and  disadvantages 
to  which  the  historical  novel  may  be  abused.     Thackeray 


Chap.  xiL]  How  to  read  History.  161 

was  not  without  his  prejudices  in  certain  directions.  These, 
with  his  desire  for  producino;  striking  effects,  are  manifest 
in  the  occasional  overdrawing  of  this  generally  well  bal- 
anced representation  of  one  of  the  most  interesting  periods 
of  English  history.  It  is  notorious  that  Walter  Scott  gave 
very  serious  oifence  to  multitudes  of  his  admiring  readers 
by  some  of  his  portraitures  of  the  representative  characters 
of  the  great  historical  parties  of  Scotland  and  England. 
With  all  the  good  sense  and  candor  which  he  had  at  com- 
mand, his  sympathies  were  too  intense  and  his  prejudices 
too  tenacious  to  allow  him  to  write  otherwise  than  he 
did,  though  he  knew  he  should  excite  the  indignation  of 
thousands  of  his  fervid  countrymen.  Mrs.  H.  B.  Stowe, 
says  in  the  preface  to  her  recent  historical  romance,  Old- 
town  Folks: — "I  have  tried  to  make  my  mind  as  still  and 
passive  as  a  looking-glass  or  a  mountain  lake,  and  thus  to 
give  you  merely  the  images  reflected  therein."  But  a  fer- 
vid and  sympathetic  nature  like  hers  can  no  more  free  itself 
from  a  theological  or  personal  bias,  in  representing  the 
New  England  of  the  past,  over  which  she  has  laughed,  and 
wept,  and  speculated,  and  struggled  all  her  life,  than  "the 
mountain  lake"  can  hold  itself  in  glassy  smoothness  against 
the  gusts  and  breezes  that  sweep  upon  it  from  the  heights 
above.  Writers  less  conscientious  and  trustworthy  than 
the  three  we  have  named  would  very  easily  make  the  his- 
torical novel  to  be  the  vehicle  of  partisan  prejudice,  dishon- 
est misrepresentation,  and  virulent  vituperation.  It  is  also 
so  easy  to  exaggerate  for  the  simple  purpose  of  effect!  ve  repre- 
sentation, that  many  such  novels  have  been  written  with 
no  conscious  bias,  and  yet  have  been  no  better  than  coarse 
exaggerations  and  extravagant  caricatures  of  the  simple 
truth.  Some  of  the  novels  of  '' 3frs.  Iliihlbach"  (Clara 
Mundt)  are  sad  and  humiliating  examples  of  this  sort, 
doing  equal  violence  to  historic  truth,  to  correct  taste,  and 
to  dramatic  propriety.  Others  are  written  with  greater 
11 


162  BooJcs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xrr. 

jBdelity  to  both  dramatic  and  historic  truth.  The  very 
wide-spread  popularity  of  these  tales  illustrates  the  fitness 
of  this  kind  of  writing  to  meet  an  important  craving  of 
human  nature.  The  volumes  of  the  Scjionberg-Ootta  and 
the  Erckmann- Chair ian  series  will  readily  occur  to  many  of 
our  readers  as  exemplifying  the  same  truth.  George  Eliot's 
Romola  is  if  jwssible  a  still  more  surprising  achievement 
than  any  which  we  have  named;  as  the  period  was  more 
remote  and  the  materials  more  scanty,  and  the  actors  and 
scenery  more  strange  to  a  native  of  England. 

The  fact  deserves  notice  in  this  connection  that,  of  late, 
professed  historians  have  indulged  somewhat  freely  in  ro- 
mancing, and  so  in  a  sense  turned  their  histories  into  quasi- 
historical  novels;  especially  when  they  attempt  to  give 
elaborate  and  eloquent  }>ortraiturcs  of  their  leading  person- 
ages, in  which  the  most  lavish  use  is  made  of  effective 
epithets  and  of  pointed  antitheses.  Macaulay,  among  the 
recent  historians,  has  set  the  fashion  very  decidedly  in  this 
direction.  In  his  efforts  to  make  history  minute,  vivid, 
and  effective,  he  has  often  described  like  an  impassioned 
advocate,  and  painted  like  a  retained  attorney,  with  the 
most  unsparing  expenditure  of  contrasts  and  epithets. 
Carlyle  gives  sketches  alternately  in  chalk  and  charcoal, 
that  exhibit  his  saints  and  demons,  now  in  ghastliest  white, 
and  then  in  the  most  appalling  blackness.  But  though  he 
draws  caricatures  he  draws  them  with  the  hand  of  an  artist, 
and  if  his  outlines  are  often  bold  and  grotesque  there  are 
many  of  which  Michael  Angelo  would  not  have  been 
ashamed.  Froude,  by  reseai-ch,  eloquence,  and  audacity 
combined,  attempts  to  reverse  the  settled  historic  judg- 
ments of  all  mankind  in  respect  to  the  characters  that  iiad 
been  "  damned  to  everlasting  fame."  Bancroft  and  Motley 
abound  in  examples  of  this  tendency  to  paint  historical 
characters  so  much  to  the  life,  that  the  impression  is  made 
that  the  result  is  only  a  painting  to  which  there  never  was 


Chap.  XII.]  Sow  to  read  History.  163 

reality.  The  ghost  of  the  miserable  Philip  II.  would  suf- 
fer more  than  the  purgatorial  tortures  which  he  dreaded 
and  deserved  so  long,  were  he  made  to  writhe  under  the 
unsparing  pertinacity  of  Motley's  invective,  from  which 
there  is  no  release,  and  to  which  there  is  no  termination  : 
while  the  spirit  of  William  the  Silent  would  be  more  re- 
served and  reticent  than  ever  were  he  forced  to  listen  to 
the  perhaps  not  undeserved,  but  the  certainly  unqualified 
laudations  of  his  admiring  narrator.  The  elaborate  por- 
traits of  Bancroft,  if  they  do  nothing  more,  do  most  effec- 
tively illustrate  the  historian's  own  conceptions  of  what 
sets  off  a  man  well  in  description,  so  intense  is  the  color- 
ing and  so  abundant  are  the  adornments  which  he  em- 
ploys. The  disposition  to  use  two  colors  certainly  allows 
striking  contrasts,  if  it  does  nothing  more.  The  hero  in 
black  is  drawn  with  deep  shadows,  if  they  are  few.  The 
hero  in  Avhite  is  as  white  as  is  practicable,  and  permit  him 
to  be  distinctly  visible.  Gradations  in  color  as  well  as 
flowing  outlines,  if  less  effective  in  the  excitement  with 
which  tliey  shock  and  excite  the  nerves,  are  more  pleasing 
to  the  taste  that  is  truly  refined,  as  well  as  ordinarily  more 
true  to  nature,  and  just  to  the  reality  of  things. 

To  satisfy  the  imagination  history  must  be  individual 
and  minute.  Hence  it  is  that  biography  supplements  his- 
tory so  happily  by  imparting  an  individual  interest  to  the 
events  which  concern  a  larger  number  of  men,  by  giving 
minuteness  of  detail  in  place  of  general  and  vague  descrip- 
tions, and  by  awakening  our  personal  and  human  sympa- 
thies in  wliat  would  otherwise  be  conceived  as  indefinite 
and  impersonal.  The  life  of  a  great  ruler  or  a  distinguished 
commander  becomes  for  these  reasons  the  most  satis- 
factory medium  for  recounting  the  history  of  a  great  nation 
or  a  critical  Avar.  We  need  only  cite  as  examples  the  lives 
of  Frederick,  Napoleon,  and  Abraham  Lincoln.  A  single 
human  being  takes  the  central  place  in  the  picture,  and  his 


164  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xil. 

personal  feelings  and  interests  awaken  active  interest  and 
sympathy.  The  recital  of  the  events  of  which  he  had  per- 
sonal knowledge  stands  out  in  bold  relief  from  the  hazy 
back-ground  of  general  descriptions  and  the  dry  details  of 
dates,  numbers,  and  results.  Hence  a  snatch  from  the  diary 
of  a  soldier  on  a  march,  a  brief  letter  after  a  battle,  a  per- 
sonal narrative  of  what  he  saw  and  felt  in  a  charge  or 
repulse,  is  often  more  attractive  and  even  more  instructive 
than  scores  of  official  summaries  and  despatches.  The  few 
diaries  which  were  faithfully  kept  in  the  stirring  times  of 
England,  as  those  of  Evelyn  and  Pepys,  the  personal  recol- 
lections of  Mrs.  Lucy  Hutchinson,  and  the  stately  record- 
ings of  Burton  in  his  Cromwellian  diary,  are  not  only  val- 
ued above  all  price  for  the  distinctness  with  which  they 
bring  again  to  life  those  exciting  times,  but  they  have  given 
suggestions  for  scores  of  imitations  in  manifold  fictitious  au- 
tobiographies and  diaries.  A  few  series  of  letters  from  an 
active  correspondent  to  his  intimate  friend  like  those  of 
Horace  Walpole,  are  sometimes  of  great  interest  and  ser- 
vice. Indeed  a  bundle  of  old  letters,  freshly  gathered  from 
some  forgotten  chest  or  dusty  closet  may  aid  the  imagina- 
tion and  move  the  heart  more  than  a  score  of  elaborate 
volumes.  The  zealous  student  of  history  is  moved  by  the 
true  historic  spirit,  to  fill  his  library  with  books  and  col- 
lections of  this  sort,  and  is  never  weary  with  ruminating 
over  the  past  which  he  ever  anew  recreates  to  the  eye 
of  his  mind  out  of  these  fragmentary  hints,  and  these  tat- 
tered, seared,  and  dusty  memorials.  An  old  letter  reveals 
a  new  world;  an  old  account-book  recalls  a  past  generation, 
with  its  ways  of  getting  and  spending,  of  buying  and  sell- 
ing, of  marrying  and  burying,  of  clothing  and  furnishing. 
We  have  read  a  manuscript  corres|)ondence  of  sixty  years 
from  a  friend  in  England  to  a  friend  in  the  United  States 
that  seemed  to  introduce  us  to  much  that  was  most  impor- 
tant of  the  inner  life  of  England  during  the  interesting 


Chap.  XII. J  S^ow  to  read  History,  165 

and  exciting  period  which  it  covered.  An  old  musket  or 
a  soldier's  outfit  represents  a  battle-field  of  another  time  ; 
and  an  old  diary  unrolls  a  pictured  procession  of  deaths 
and  burials,  of  weddings  and  funerals,  of  famines  and 
pestilences,  in  which  the  long  dead  reappear  upon  the 
earth,  inhabit  their  old  houses,  and  walk  the  once-fre- 
quented streets.  The  imagination  of  many  a  Dr.  Dry- 
asdust is  pictured  all  over  with  unwritten  romances ;  and 
his  heart,  which  seems  as  desolate  and  forbidding  as  his 
dusty  and  disorderly  den,  is  brimming  over  with  the  ten- 
derest  recollections.  Peace  to  his  ashes,  for  in  them  slum- 
ber the  glowing  embers  of  the  loved  and  therefore  the  un- 
forgotten  past! 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A  COURSE  OF  HISTORICAL  READING. 

We  proceed  next  to  give  an  outline  of  a  course  of  Histor- 
ical Reading.  It  will  be  remembered  that  we  do  not  pro- 
pose to  furnish  a  list  of  books  for  the  student,  but  only  for 
the  general  reader.  We  begin  with  the  earliest  period,  and 
follow  the  order  of  time. 

The  best  and  most  readily  accessible  general  history  of 
the  earliest  nations  is  Philip  Smith's  History  of  the  World, 
from  the  Earliest  Records  to  the  Present  Time,  of  which  the 
histor}'^  of  the  nations  of  antiquity  is  complete,  and  com- 
prises three  volumes.  This  History  has  the  very  great 
advantage  of  using  the  results  of  the  latest  researches  and 
explorations  in  literary  and  monumental  remains,  and  is 
written  and  compiled  with  a  distinct  recognition  of  the 
criticdl  method  which  we  have  already  noticed.  It  suffers, 
as  was  unavoidable,  under  the  disadvantage  of  being  a 
compilation.  It  is  of  necessity  not  written  with  the  enthu- 
siasm and  earnestness  which  only  those  writers  attain  who 
have  limited  their  investigations  to  a  single  country  or  a 
single  period,  and  are  not  constrained  by  the  necessity  of 
condensation.  It  is  especially  serviceable  as  an  introduction 
to  more  special  and  particular  histories.  This  work  cannot 
be  recommended  too  earnestly  as  compared  with  Rollin, 
Prideaux,  Shuckford,  and  numerous  writers  like  them, 
whose  usefulness  and  authority  have  been  superseded,  and 
whose  occupation  ought  ))y  this  time  to  be  gone.  It  is  to 
be  feared  that  notwithstanding  the  progress  of  civilization, 
shoals  of  their  works  will  continue  to  be  multi])lied  by  the 
zeal  of  interested  publishers,  and  that  book-agents  will 
166 


Chap.  XIII.]     A  Course  of  Historical  Reading.  167 

still  sell  them  as  standard  histories.  Niebuhr's  Lectures 
on  Ancient  Histori/y  etc.,  in  three  volumes,  treat  of  special 
topics  with  learning  and  freshness.  They  are  of  a  general 
character,  and  are  in  striking  contrast  with  those  excessively 
minute  and  learned  investigations  which  were  given  to  the 
world  in  the  first  volumes  of  his  History  of  Home,  and 
which  have  occasioned  the  impression  that  Niebuhr  in  all 
his  writings  is  unintelligible  to  those  readers  who  are  not 
scholars.  C  L.  Brace's  Races  of  the  Old  World  is  an  ex- 
cellent companion  in  all  historical  studies. 

A.  H.  L.  Heeren,  in  his  Politics,  Intercourse  and  Trade 
of  Ancient  Asiatic  Nations  and  his  Politics,  Intercourse  and 
Trade  of  the  Carthaginians,  Ethiopians,  and  Egyptians,  treats 
of  these  special  topics  with  great  freshness,  and  has  the  great 
merit  of  continually  confronting  and  comparing  the  past 
with  the  present,  making  the  ancient  world  to  seem  a  real 
world  to  the  modern  reader,  and  its  life  to  be  reproduced 
as  an  actual  and  present  reality.  He  writes  for  the  historic 
imagination  as  well  as  for  the  historic  judgment.  Rawlin- 
son's  History  of  the  Five  Great  Monarchies  of  the  Ancient 
Eastern  World  is  a  recent  work,  which  is  at  once  original, 
drawn  from  direct  research,  critical,  and  reverent  of  things 
and  truths  which  are  sacred.  Rawlinson's  Herodotus  ong-ht 
to  be  named  in  this  connection.  Le  Normant  and  Cheval- 
lier's  History  of  the  Oriental  Natiotvi  of  Antiquity,  2  vols, 
partially  satisfies  a  long-felt  want.  A.  H.  Layard's  Dis- 
coveries in  Nineveh  and  Nineveh  and  its  Remains  would 
naturally  be  consulted  here. 

In  the  history  and  antiquities  of  Egypt,  Sir  J.  G.  "Wil- 
kinson is  the  highest  authority,  and  he  may  be  read  either 
in  his  larger  work,  3Ianners  and  Customs  of  the  Ancient 
Egi/ptians,  3  vols.  8vo.,  or  in  the  more  popular  and  abridged 
Popular  Account  of  the  Ancient  Egyptians,  2  vols.  12mo. 
Uhlemann's  Three  Days  in  Memphis  is  as  successful  an 
attempt  at  reviving  the  Egyptian  world  to-  the  imagination 


168  Books  and  Heading.  [Chap.  xih. 

of  the  moderns  as  could  be  expected.  Osburn's  Monumen- 
tal History  of  Egypt  is  a  work  of  interest  and  authority. 
Egypt  Aneient  and  Modem,  by  M.  Russell,  is  a  brief  com- 
pend  of  Egyptian  history.  Egypt  and  the  Books  of  Moses 
is  an  elaborate  work,  by  E.  W.  Hengstenbcrg.  Egypt  Past 
and  Present,  by  Dr.  J.  P.  Thompson,  is  carefully  prepared. 
Egypt,  its  Place  in  (lie  WorhTs  History,  by  Baron  Bunscn, 
has  the  characteristic  excellencies  and  defects  of  its  well- 
known  author. 

If  we  pass  from  Egypt  to  Palestine,  we  have  for  the 
general  reader  the  well-known  and  the  well-written  History 
of  the  Jews,  by  the  eloquent  and  scholarly  H.  H,  Milman. 
This  work  is  not  as  frequently  and  faithfully  read  as  it  de- 
serves to  be.  It  is  written  with  the  critical  spirit  of  a 
thorough  scholar,  with  the  candor  of  an  enlightened  Biblical 
student,  with  the  imagination  of  a  poet,  and  the  faith  of  a 
believing  Christian.  Jahn's  History  of  the  Hebrew  Com- 
monwealth, from  the  German,  is  solid  and  trustworthy,  but 
heavy  in  style.  Ewald's  History  of  the  People  of  Israel, 
from  the  German,  translated  in  part,  is  masterly  for  its 
learning  and  originality,  but  abundant  in  capricious  and 
not  always  well-sustained  suggestions.  ]\I.  T.  Raphall's 
Post  Biblical  History  of  the  Jews  is  a  faithful  and  painstak- 
ing History  by  a  well-known  learned  Ilabbi.  For  the 
understanding  of  the  Hebrew  institutions  in  their  relation 
to  the  Hebrew  literature.  Herder's  Spirit  of  Hebrew  Poetry, 
from  the  German,  is  invaluable.  No  intelligent  and 
thoughtful  reader  can  fail  to  be  delighted  and  instructed 
by  its  eloquent  pages.  Isaac  Taylor  On  Hebrew  Poetry, 
and  Robert  Lowth  on  the  Sacred  Poetry  of  the  Hebrews  are 
both  excellent  adjuncts.  Helon's  Pilgrimftge,  an  historical 
novel,  from  the  German  of  F.  Strauss,  published  more  re- 
cently also  under  the  title  of  The  Glory  of  the  House  of 
Israel,  is  a  very  successful  attempt  to  reproduce  in  a  tale 
the  life  of  the  Jewish  people  in  the  century  preceding  the 


Chap.xiit.]     -^  Course  of  Historical  Reading.  169 

advent  of  Christ.  It  was  prepared  with  great  care,  with 
competent  learning,  and  as  an  aid  to  the  study  of  the  Jew- 
ish history  and  institutions,  as  well  as  a  successful  inter- 
preter of  the  Jewish  faith  and  worship,  is  worth  a  score  of 
professed  and  formal  commentaries.  Its  merits  are  far 
superior  to  many  extemporized  and  superficial  imitations 
purporting  to  be  reproductions  of  the  tim.es  of  the  Old 
Testament  and  the  Jews,  that  seek  to  supply  what  they  lack 
in  historic  accuracy,  by  exaggerated  diction,  ill-conceived 
illustrations,  and  extravagant  portraiture. 

No  thorough  student  of  Jewish  history  would  be  willing 
to  overlook  the  works  of  Josephus,  the  only,  but  not  al- 
ways to  be  trusted  authority  upon  many  points.  The  or- 
dinary reader  cannot  but  find  great  advantage  in  reading 
portions  of  these  works,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  that 
they  so  eiFectually  transport  him  back  into  the  past,  and 
enable  him  to  understand  and  to  sympathize  with  the 
spirit  of  the  enlightened  political  Jews  of  the  times.  The 
Geography  of  Palestine  has  been  treated  in  an  exhaustive 
and  critical  way  by  the  eminent  Professor  Robinson  in  his 
Biblical  jResearches,  and  his  Geography  of  Palestine.  The 
Sinai  and  Palestine,  in  connection  icith  their  History,  by 
Arthur  P.  Stanley,  is  more  popular  in  its  form,  and  is  bet- 
ter adapted  to  the  use  of  the  general  reader.  The  Ilaps 
of  Palestine  that  were  edited  by  Dr.  Robinson  are  very 
carefully  corrected,  and  the  3fap  of  the  Holy  Land,  by  C 
W.  M.  Van  de  Velde,  is  in  every  respect  deserving  the 
highest  confidence.  Raaz,  Map  of  Palestine,  an  imitation 
of  maps  in  relief,  is  at  once  ornamental  and  instructive, 
and  should  be  in  the  hands  of  every  student  of  Biblical 
History.  The  Dictionaries  of  the  Bible  and  the  Encyclo- 
pedias of  Religious  Literature  which  we  shall  notice  in  the 
Chapter  on  Religious  Reading  are  indispensable  auxiliaries. 

From  Palestine  to  Greece  is  but  a  short  distance,  and 
the  transition  is  not  unnatural  from  the  Hebraic  to  the 


1 70  Books  and  Heading.  [Chap.  xrri. 

Greek  histDr}^  C.  Wordsworth's  Greece,  Pictorial,  De- 
sci'iptive  and  Historical,  and  a  History  of  Greek  Art,  is  an 
admirable  introduction  to  the  study  of  the  geography,  his- 
tory and  literature  of  that  wonderful  country.  The  extend- 
ed and  carefully  written  History  of  Greece  by  George  Grote 
has  superseded  almost  every  other,  and  no  objection  can  be 
urged  against,  it,  except  its  excessive  minuteness  and  its 
length.  A  good  abridgement  of  it  for  schools  and  begin- 
ners has  been  prepared  by  William  Smith.  W.  Mitford's 
Histoi^  of  Greece  is  written  with  great  spirit  and  with 
masterly  vigor ;  but  it  is  excessively  partisan  in  its  charac- 
ter, flie  writer  being  a  desperate  enemy  to  popular  institu- 
tions of  every  kind,  and  finding  in  the  convulsions  and 
changes  of  the  states  of  Greece  abundant  confirmations  for 
his  political  sympathies.  C.  Thirlwall's  History  of  Greece  is 
carefully  written,  but  it  wants  the  spirit  of  Mitford,  and  the 
critical  research  and  masterly  insight  of  Grote.  E.  Curtius' 
Manual  History,  from  the  German,  from  the  reputation  of 
the  author,  must  be  accepted  as  of  high  authority.  Ana- 
charsis^  Travels,  by  .T.  J.  Barthc'lemy,  from  the  French,  is 
an  attempt  to  recall  the  Greece  that  was,  in  a  series  of  ima- 
gined travels  taken  in  the  palmy  days  of  the  Grecian 
States.  Pausauias's  Greece,  an  itinerary  from  a  careful 
traveler  and  antiquary  of  the  second  century,  is  invaluable 
as  a  record  of  places,  buildings,  and  works  of  art  as  seen  by 
Greek  eyes  and  judged  by  a  Greek  mind.  W.  A.  Becker's 
Charicles  is  a  brief  and  formal,  but  for  its  purj)oses,an  ad- 
mirable historical  novel,  the  design  of  which  is  to  repro- 
duce Greek  life  as  it  has  been  re-created  and  interpreted  by 
the  thorough  critical  researclies  of  modern  scholarship.  It 
is  fortified  and  illustrated  by  abundant  notes,  which  refer 
to  the  classical  writers.  C.  J.  Felton's  Greece  Ancient  and 
Modern,  is  learned  and  spirited.  Athens,  its  Rise  and 
Fall,  by  Sir  Edward  Lytton  Bulwcr,  is  eloquently  written, 
and  serves  to  quicken  and  aid  the  historic  imagination, 


Chap.  XIII.]    ^  Course  of  Historical  Reading.  171 

while  Attica  and  Athens  by  C.  O.  Mliller  and  others  is  at 
once  learned  and  interesting,  ajid  A.  Boeckh's  Publio  JEcon- 
omy  of  Athens  is  full  of  solid  and  satisfactory  information 
in  respect  to  the  political  organization  of  the  State. 

The  later  history  of  Greece  has  been  carefully  and  labo- 
riously written  by  George  Finlay  in  the  following  works, 
Avhich  are  above  the  taste  and  the  wants,  as  they  are  be- 
yond the  reach  of  the  ordinary  reader  :  Greece  binder  the 
Romans,  Mediaeval  History  of  GreecCy  History  of  the  By- 
zantine and  Greek  Empire. 

The  history  of  Rome  may  be  said  to  be  well  represented 
in  English  literature  by  Thomas  Arnold's  History  of  Rome 
and  his  Later  Roman  Commonwealth,  and  by  Charles 
Mcrivale's  Rome  under  the  Emperors.  These  works  may 
be  recommended  as  of  the  very  highest  authority  in  respect 
to  research  and  thoroughness.  They  are  all  written  in  a 
clear  and  fluent  style.  H.  G.  Liddell's  History  is  a  scholar- 
ly manual  compiled  from  the  best  sources.  J.  C.  Eustace's 
Classical  Tour  through  Italy  is  a  useful  book  of  reference. 
Theodore  Mommsen's  History  of  Rome,  from  the  German, 
is  now  accessible  to  English  readers,  and  cannot  be  too  high- 
ly praised  for  its  brilliant  generalizations  and  its  success  in 
comparing  ancient  with  modern  events  and  institutions. 
W.  A.  Becker's  Gallus  does  the  same  for  Roman  which 
his  Charicles  does  for  Greek  life.  W.  Forsyth's  Life  of 
Cicero,  though  a  little  stiff  and  ponderous  in  its  movement, 
is  valuable  to  the  reader  who  desires  to  understand  something 
of  the  individual  life  of  one  of  the  most  distinguished  of  Ro- 
man writers  and  statesmen,  and  who  also  would  learn  some- 
what of  the  domestic  and  social  life  of  the  country,  as  re- 
flected in  the  personal  record  of  the  feelings  and  the  fortunes 
of  so  great  a  man.  This  biography,  like  the  most  interest- 
ing of  modern  lives,  is  in  the  main  drawn  from  Cicero's 
private  letters.  The  whole  correspondence  of  Cicero  with 
Atticus  is  accessible    by  translations  to  English  readers. 


172  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xin. 

Plutarch's  Lives  have  been  read  with  enthusiasm  by  thou- 
sands of  youths,  and  have  at  least  imbued  their  readers 
with  vivid  impressions  of  ancient  thought  and  feeling. 
They  are  lauded  by  R.  W.  Emei*son  as  one  of  the  books 
which  every  man  should  read  and  re-read.  A.  H.  ClougKs 
revised  edition  is  the  best. 

This  suggests  the  thought  that  the  reader  of  Greek  and 
Roman  history  who  is  not  a  proficient  in  the  Greek  and 
Latin  languages, — as  well  as  many  who  are, — cannot  be 
said  to  master  the  history  of  these  countries  unless  he 
knows  something  of   their  literature  and   of  its  history. 

There  are  now  accessible  many  good  translations  of  the 
works  of  the  leading  writers  in  prose  and  poetry,  as  also 
good  critical  and  popular  histories  of  these  literatures. 
The  great  poems  of  Homer  have  been  rendered  into  Eng- 
lish with  various  ability  and  success,  from  the  quaint  and 
graphic  Chapman  down  to  the  Earl  of  Derby  and  two  or 
three  after  him,  of  whom  our  own  Bryant  is  the  last 
but  not  the  least  successful.  The  history  of  Herodotus 
has  been  translated  and  commented  upon  by  Rawlinson. 
W.  E.  Gladstone's  Juventus  Mundi  is  intensely  interest- 
ing in  its  reproduction  of  the  Greek  life  from  the  representa- 
tions of  Homer.  In  this  connexion  we  name  G.  W.  Cox's 
Manual  of  Ilyihology,  Tales  of  the  Gods  and  Heroes,  Tales  of 
Thebes  and  Argos]  C.  O.  JMiiller's  ScientifiG  System  of  My- 
thology. Several  of  the  Dialogues  of  Plato  have  been 
translated  into  fluent  English  with  annotations  by  the  emi- 
nent philosopher  W.  Whewell.  George  Grote  has  written 
an  elaborate  treatise  upon  the  writings  of  Plato,  in  the 
form  of  a  careful  analysis  of  each  of  his  Dialogues.  Aris- 
totle's Ethics,  Rhetoric,  and  Treatise  on  Poetry  have  been 
well  translated  and  published  in  Bohn's  Classical  Library. 
The  Tragedies  of  Sophocles  have  been  translated  by  E.  II. 
Plumptrc,  and  some  of  the  Comedies  of  Aristophanes  have 
been  admirably  rendered  by  J.  Hookham  Frere.     Coning- 


Chap,  xiil]      A  Course  of  Historical  Reading.  173 

ton's  Virgil  is  interesting  even  to  a  school-boy.  The  well- 
known  translations  of  the  leading  Latin  writers  need  not  be 
enumerated.  William  Morris's  Life  and  Death  of  Jason, 
imitated  from  the  Greek,  is  admirably  fitted  to  awaken  the 
feeling  for  ancient  life  and  to  carry  the  reader  back  to  the 
earlier  centuries.  Of  the  histories  of  Greek  and  Roman 
literature  we  may  name  W.  Mure's  History  of  the  Language 
and  IJterature  of  Ancient  Greece,  also  C.  O.  MUller's  His- 
tory  of  the  Litei'ature  of  Ancient  Greece,  published  by  the 
Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge,  and  Dun- 
lop's  History  of  Roman  Literature.  William  Smith's 
Dictionaries  of  Ancient  Geography,  2  vols. ;  of  Antiqui- 
ties, 1  vol.,  and  of  Biography  and  Mythology,  3  vols.,  are 
an  encyclopedia  of  reference  upon  all  points  and  ques- 
tions which  relate  to  Greek  and  Roman  history,  litera- 
ture, and  biography.  Rollin's  History  of  the  Ai'ts  and 
Sciences  of  the  Ancients  is  a  much  better  book  than  the 
much  better  known  Ancient  Universal  History. 

As  we  come  from  ancient  to  modern  times,  the  introduc- 
tion of  Christianity  and  the  rise  and  growth  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church  attract  our  attention.  They  cannot  be  left  out 
of  view,  for  they  are  entwined  with  the  rise  and  growtli  of 
all  the  modern  States,  and  in  great  part  constitute  as  well 
as  in  greater  measure  explain  our  modern  history.  We 
may  speak  hereafter  more  at  length  of  books  upon  these 
topics  under  the  title  of  Religious  Reading,  but  at  present 
we  shall  confine  ourselves  to  the  notice  which  they  deserv^e 
from  the  reader  of  general  history.  H.  H.  Milman's  History 
of  Christianity  in  the  First  Three  Centuries  is  perhaps  the  best 
single  work  of  the  general  character  which  is  required  by 
such  a  reader.  This  work  is  neither  ecclesiastical  nor  re- 
ligious. It  professes  to  treat  of  Christianity  chiefly  as  it 
affected  the  secular,  political,  and  social  relations  of  the 
Roman  empire  and  the  Roman  world.  C.  Merivale's  Con- 
version of  the  Roman  Empire  is  a  work  of  the  same  general 


174  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xiir. 

scope.  Helena^ s  Household,  an  unpretending  story  by  J. 
De  Mille,  recently  issued,  gives  an  interesting  and  faithful 
picture  of  the  workings  of  Christianity  in  a  lioman  house- 
hold, and  interweaves  also  much  of  the  history  of  a  part 
of  the  fii*st  and  second  centuries.  Zenohia,  Aurelian  and 
Julian,  by  the  Rev.  William  Ware,  Salathiel,  by  llcv. 
George  Croly,  and  Valerius,  by  J.  G.  Lockhart,  are  all  ex- 
cellent examples  of  good  historical  tales  of  the  earlier 
Christian  centuries.  Neander's  General  History  of  tlie 
Cliristian  Religion  and  the  Christian  Church  is  not  un- 
worthy the  attention  of  the  general  reader,  although  it  is 
professedly  written  from  a  religious  as  well  as  a  secular 
standpoint.  The  great  work  upon  this  transition-period 
which  meets  and  satisfies  the  wants  of  the  general  reader 
most  completely  is  the  masterly  history  by  Gibbon  of  the 
Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire.  It  still  remains 
the  treasure-house  of  digested  learning  and  of  critical  judg- 
ment for  all  other  historians.  V/e  have  already  taken  ex- 
ception to  the  moral  spirit  in  which  it  was  written,  and  to 
the  antagonistic  attitude  which  it  assumes  towards  Christi- 
anity. AVhile  we  ought  not  to  insist  that  every  historical 
writer  should  write  in  a  believing  or  devout  spirit,  we  may 
reasonably  require  that  he  should  treat  with  respect  the 
opinions  of  believers  in  Christianity,  and  that  he  should 
not  dishonor  by  contemptuous  and  indirect  depreciation 
that  religious  system  which  is  universally  conceded  to  be 
the  noblest  which  the  world  has  ever  witnessed.  To 
counteract  the  influence  of  these  arguments  and  insinua- 
tions of  Gibbon,  both  Milman  and  Guizot  have  edited 
special  editions  of  this  History,  with  abundant  notes.  The 
Student's  Gibbon,  prepared  by  W.  Smith,  in  a  similar 
spirit,  is  an  edition  greatly  abridged,  which  is  designed  for 
school  and  college  use,  and  may  serve  as  a  convenient 
manual  for  review  and  reference.  J.  Sismondi  has  also  writ- 
ten an  excellent  brief   History  of  the  Decline  and  Fall 


Chap.  xiiT.]    A  Course  of  Historical  Reading,  175 

of  the  Roman  Empire.  Milmaii's  History  of  Latin  Chris- 
tianity is  of  the  highest  value,  and  is  universally  accepted 
as  one  of  our  best  standard  histories. 

Gibbon's  celebrated  history  is  the  connecting  bridge  by 
■which  we  pass  from  ancient  to  what  we  are  accustomed 
to  call  Modern  History.  A  dark  chasm  intervenes  be- 
tween the  two,  in  which  barbarism  and  disorder  struggle 
with  the  tendencies  to  civilization  and  order,  which  during 
a  long  series  of  centuries  are  furnished  first  and  almost 
exclusively  by  the  Christian  Church,  itself  greatly  unen- 
lightened and  corrupt.  Others  sprung  from  the  literature, 
art,  and  free  spirit  that  were  introduced  and  inspired  by 
the  revival  of  classical  study,  and  both  at  last  struck  their 
own  roots  and  developed  an  independent  life  in  what  we 
call  modern  Europe.  It  is  not  yet  given  to  special  stu- 
dents of  history  to  understand  this  period  perfectly,  and 
the  results  of  what  has  been  satisfactorily  established  are 
not  accessible  in  general  histories  that  are  adapted  to  the 
ordinary  reader.  Koch's  Revolutions  of  Europe  is  an  ex- 
panded chronological  table,  convenient  for  reference  and 
instruction  to  those  who  have  patience  to  use  it.  A.  F. 
Tytlcr's  Modern  History  was  once  used  in  schools  and  col- 
leges, but  has  now  been  generall)''  disused.  W.  C.  Taylor's 
Manual  of  Modern  History  is  to  be  preferred  to  this.  Rus- 
sell's well-known  and  much  used  History  of  Modern  Europe 
may  perhaps  be  set  aside  by  the  compilation  of  Philip 
Smith.  A  few  manuals  translated  from  the  German,  as 
those  of  J.  Von  Muller,  Schlosser,  Weber,  furnish  the 
principal  facts,  with  little  or  no  expansion,  illustration,  or 
philosophy. 

Rev.  James  White's  Eighteen  Christian  Centuries  is 
written  with  spirit,  and  furnishes  a  very  convenient  and 
interesting  general  view  of  the  prominent  events  of  modern 
history.  It  is,  however,  and  professes  to  be,  nothing  more 
than  a  sketch  of  these  events.     A  sketch  of  an  entirely 


176  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xill. 

different  chaiacter  is  found  in  Guizot's  History  of  Civiliza- 
tion in  Europe.  This  work  treats  of  the  great  moving  in- 
fluences and  agencies  which  brought  order  and  light  into 
the  chaos  and  darkness  consequent  upon  the  breaking  up 
of  the  ancient  civilization.  Hallain's  State  of  Europe  dur- 
ing the  Middle  Ages  is  a  work  of  the  highest  authority. 
Though  exceedingly  dry  and  condensed  in  its  matter  and 
manner,  it  is  indispensable  even  to  a  general  reader.  In 
this  connection  we  may  properly  refer  to  Hallam's  Intro- 
duction to  the  Literature  of  Europe,  as  giving  the  best  ac- 
count which  is  accessible  of  the  beginnings  and  progress 
of  literature  from  the  period  of  its  revival  and  onward. 
Froissart's  Chronicles  carry  us  back  to  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury, and  give  us  vivid  impressions  of  the  stir  and  ro- 
mance of  chivalry.  Professor  G.  W.  Greene's  Lectures  on 
the  Middle  Ages  is  a  useful  and  trustworthy  manual. 
Leopold  Ranke's  History  of  the  Popes  and  History  of  the 
Reformation  should  also  be  read  as  supplementary  to  the 
exclusively  secular  histories  of  those  times.  It  is,  of 
course,  written  from  a  Protestant  point  of  view,  but  is  gen- 
erally accepted  as  candid  and  trustworthy.  No  man  can 
understand  the  history  of  Europe  who  does  not  make  him- 
self intimately  acquainted  with  the  manifold  phases  and 
the  powerful  agency  of  the  Romish  Church,  and  with  the 
relation  of  the  Protestant  Reformation  to  the  political  ac- 
tion of  the  Protestant  powers.  An  historical  essay  by 
James  Bryce,  On  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  treats  very 
ably  of  the  fancied  successor  to  the  old  Roman  domi- 
nion, which  at  times  embraced  within  its  supremacy  many 
of  the  separate  European  States,  and  had  the  most  import- 
ant influence  over  the  whole  field  of  Euroj)ean  history. 
D'Aubign^'s  History  of  the  Reformation,  which  is<lecided- 
ly  Protestant  and  positively  and  earnestly  religious,  is 
drawn  from  original  sources  and  largely  biographical. 
The    History  of  the    Crusades  by  Michaud,  from  the 


Chap.xiil]     ^  Course  of  Historical  Reading.  177 

French,  and  C.  Mills'  History  of  the  Crusades,  should  be 
read  here,  with  Tasso's  Jerusalem  Delivered  and  Walter 
Scott's  Ivanhoe  and  The   Talisman. 

If  we  leave  the  general  history  of  Europe  and  consider 
its  separate  States  and  countries,  we  naturally  turn  first  to 
Italy.  In  this  field  the  supply  for  English  readers  is  un- 
fortunately very  meagre.  Frederick  von  Raumer's  His- 
tory of  Italy  and  the  Italians,  from  the  German,  and  J.  C. 
L.  S.  de  Sismondi's  History  of  the  Italian  Republics,  from 
the  French,  are  works  of  deservedly  high  reputation. 
"William  Roscoe's  Life  and  Pontificate  of  Leo  X.  and 
Life  of  Lorenzo  de  Medici  are  elegantly  and  carefully 
written.  Sir  Edward  Lytton  Bulwer's  Rienzi,  or  the 
Last  of  the  Tribunes,  send  Romola,  hy  "  George  Eliot" 
(Mrs.  Lewes)  are  historical  novels  of  great  excellence,  the 
last  deserving  all  the  high  encomiums  which  it  has  re- 
ceived. Sismondi's  History  of  the  Literature  of  the  South 
of  Europe  is  very  full  upon  the  literature  of  Italy. 
Dante's  great  poem  should  be  studied  in  connection  with 
Italian  history. 

It  is  with  Spain  as  with  Italy.  There  is  no  general 
history  of  Spain  of  very  high  authority.  This  is  perhaps 
the  less  to  be  regretted,  as  this  history  is  covered  to  a  con- 
siderable extent  by  the  histories  of  the  Empire,  and  by 
those  of  special  periods  and  personages.  Mrs.  Calcott's 
Popular  History  is  said  by  a  competent  critic  to  be  as  suc- 
cessful as  the  materials  and  the  nature  of  the  subject  would 
allow.  Ticknor's  History  of  Spanish  Literature  is  of  the 
highest  authority,  and  is  very  readable.  Robertson's  well- 
known  History  of  Charles  V.,  Watson's  Philip  II.,  Pres- 
cott's  History  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  AVashington 
Irving's  Life  and  Voyages  of  Columbus,  J.  L.  Motley's 
Histories  of  the  United  Netherlands  and  of  the  Rise  of  the 
Dutch  Republic,  supply  in  a  good  measure  the  deficiency 
of  a  single  general  history  of  this  splendid  but  ill-fated 


178  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xiii. 

country.  Napier's  Peninsular  War  is  one  of  the  ablest 
and  most  interesting  of  all  military  histories. 

Spain  naturally  suggests  Holland,  inasmuch  as  the  for- 
tunes of  the  two  countries  for  many  memorable  years  were 
closely  connected.  Grattan's  History  of  the  Netherlands 
is  a  good  manual  history.  Motley's  histories,  just  named, 
are  nearly  all  that  could  be  desired  for  the  periods  of  time 
which  they  cover.  For  the  periods  subsequent  to  those, 
the  history  of  Holland  and  Belgium  is  treated  pretty  fully, 
as  it  necessarily  would  be,  in  the  special  histories  of  the 
great  States  which  are  adjacent,  and  in  the  general  history 
of  Europe,  and  es^jccially  in  all  histories  of  the  French 
[Revolution. 

For  Germany,  the  English  reader  must  content  himself 
with  Kohlrausch's  General  History  and  Menzel's  History 
of  Germany  and  the  Germans;  both  translated  from  the 
German.  •  Coxe's  History  of  the  House  of  Austria,  and 
Carlyle's  Frederick  the  Great,  are  books  of  the  highest 
authority,  the  last  being  deformed  by  the  author's  worst 
faults,  which  are  redeemed  by  striking  excellencies.  No 
book  can  be  compared  with  this  to  enable  the  reader  to 
understand  the  rise  and  growth  of  the  now  great  Prussian 
power.  Schiller's  History  of  the  Thirty  Years*  War  is 
full  of  striking  and  eloquent  passages.  J.  S.  C.  Abbott's 
Austria  is  a  mere  compilation,  as  it  professes  to  be,  but  is 
faithfully  executed. 

For  the  history  of  Russia  we  are  dependent  upon  a  few 
manuals — among  which  Abbott's  takes  a  respectable  rank. 
The  more  scholarly  reader  must  resort  to  works  in  French 
and  German. 

Gcijcr's  History  of  the  Swedes  as  translated,  is  unfortu- 
nately not  complete. 

France  is  a  country  of  whioli  the  history  is  most  closely 
intertwined  with  that  of  England  and  America.  It  ex- 
cites the  warmest  and  deepest  interest  in  almost  every 


Chap.xiil]      -A.  Course  of  Historieal  Reading.  179 

reader,  and  deserves  careful  study.  Rev.  James  White's 
brief  history  of  this  country,  and  Parke  Godwin's  as  yet 
incomplete  manual,  are  both  good.  Michclct's  eloquent 
sketches  are  excellent,  and  Martin's  elaborate  volumes, 
translated  (ns  yet  in  part  only)  from  the  French,  are  ad- 
mirable. The  Student's  History  of  France  is  dependent 
on  Martin,  and  is  an  excellent  compend.  Parke  Godwin's 
History  of  France  cannot  but  be  solid  and  brilliant. 
Guizot's  History  of  Civilization  in  France,  Sir  James 
Stephens's  Lectures  on  the  History  of  France,  Smedloy's 
History  of  the  Reformed  Church  in  France,  Smilcs's 
Huguenots,  The  Memoirs  of  the  Duhe  of  Sully  and  of  the 
Cardinal  de  Retz,  Miss  Pardoe's  Louis  XIV.,  come  in  as 
representatives  of  a  great  number  of  monographs  on  special 
topics  and  periods.  Bungener's  Preacher  and  King  and 
Priest  and  Huguenot,  are  effective  and  eloquent  portrait- 
ures of  the  reigns  of  Louis  XIV.  and  XV.,  M'hich  attract 
all  classes  of  readers.  G.  P.  R.  James'  The  Huguenot 
is  trustworthy  and  useful.  The  French  Revolution,  as 
was  natural,  has  been  a  very  fertile  theme  for  a  great  num- 
ber of  special  histories.  Mignet  gives  a  brief  and  trust- 
worthy narrative  of  the  princi[)al  facts.  Carlyle  presents 
the  chief  incidents  and  personages  in  a  series  of  brilliant 
and  impressive  pictures.  Thiers  has  wrought  up  the 
abundant  material  at  his  command  into  elaborate  and  ef- 
fective representations  in  his  Histories  of  The  French  Revo- 
lution and  of  The  Consulate  and  Empire.  Alison's  His- 
tory of  Europe  from  1789  to  1815  gives  the  English  aristo- 
cratic view  of  those  convulsions  in  Europe.  The  novels 
of  the  Erckmann-Chatrian  series  illustrate  the  same  period. 
Xot  a  few  tracts  and  treatises  on  the  French  Revolution 
of  a  general  character  have  been  written  by  writers  of  the 
first  ability,  which  it  is  worth  while  to  read  in  connection 
with  its  history  proper — as  for  example  Edmund  Burke's 
Reflections  on  the  Rcvotution  in  France,  Sir  James  Mackin- 


Books  and  Heading.  [Chap.  xiii. 

tosVs  Vindicice  Gallicce,  Madame  de  Stacl's  Invents  of  the 
French  Revolution,  Paino's  Rights  of  Man,  Laraartine's 
Histories,  and  AVilliam  Smyth's  Lectures. 

The  history  of  England  is  the  history  above  all  others 
which  is  important  and  interesting  to  the  man  of  English 
origin,  not  merely  because  it  is  the  history  of  his  own  na- 
tion and  lineage,  but  because  it  records  the  development  of 
the  liberty  and  the  institutions,  of  the  literature  and  the 
commerce  which  have  already  exerted  the  most  wide- 
spread influence  upon  the  human  family,  and  which  are 
destined  to  exercise  a  still  more  extensive  influence  on 
future  generations.  The  history  of  many  of  the  countries 
of  Europe,  as  of  Holland,  France,  and  Prussia,  may  pre- 
sent many  single  passages  of  dramatic  interest;  they  are 
ennobled  by  the  character  and  deeds  of  many  heroes  in  arts 
and  arms ;  they  have  added  many  single  products  to  hu- 
man civilization  of  lasting  value  and  splendid  renown. 
But  none  of  these  have  achieved  so  much  for  man,  by  as 
uniform  and  steady  progress  in  a  noble  direction,  as  have 
England  and  America.  We  say  England  and  America, 
for  to  the  historic  student  both  these  countries  are  one. 
No  other  countries  have  embodied  their  achievements  in 
political  institutions  so  free,  in  laws  so  beneficent  and  hu- 
mane, in  a  public  sentiment  so  efficiGnt,  so  just,  and  so 
wide-reaching,  and  in  a  literature  so  various  and  so  enno- 
bling. The  Englishman  who  is  not  proud  of  the  history 
of  his  own  country  is  degenerate  and  low-minded.  The 
American  who  does  not  study  it  with  filial  delight  and 
gratitude  is  narrow-minded  and  barbarous.  Whatever 
temporary  alienations  may  have  disturbed  our  sympathy 
with  the  old  homestead,  or  whatever  wrongs  we  may  have 
suffered  from  the  haughty  and  unnatural  jealousy  of  the 
old  mother,  they  should  not  abate  in  the  least  from  the 
interest  which  we  feel  in  that  part  of  the  history  of  Eng- 
land which  is  our  history  as  truly  as  it  is  hers,  or  make  ua 


Chap.xiil]     ^  Course  of  Historiccd  Reading.  181 

content  to  alienate  from  ourselves  the  least  item  of  our 
sliare  iu  its  achievements  and  its  renown.     Indeed,  were 
the  American  disposed  to  do  so,  he  cannot  avoid  reading 
the  history  of  England,  if  he  would  understand  his  own. 
Her  history  is  a  part  of  the  history  of  his  own  country. 
-Jt  is  essential  as  an  introduction  to  this  history.     What 
we  most  value  in  our  ancestral  spirit  was  first  developed 
on  English  soil  and  in  the  conflicts  which  are  recorded  in 
English  annals.     The  habits,  the  principles,  and  the  faith 
which   have   moulded   this   country  are  English  in  their 
origin.      The  literature  which  has  both  formed  and  ex- 
pressed our  public  sentiment  has  much  of  it  been  composed 
on  English  soil,  and  all  of  it  flows  in  a  common  stream  of 
sentiment  that  has  been  derived  from  English  hearths  and 
English  altars,  from  English  tribunals  and   English  cus- 
toms.     The  contributions  which  we  have  made    to  this 
stream  do  not  discolor  its  purity  or  disturb  its  flow.     The 
early  English  history  is  in  some  respects  even   more  im- 
portant to  the  American  reader  than  it  is  to    the  resident 
upon  English  soil,  for  the  reason  that  to  the  home-born 
and  home-bred  the  traditions  and  customs,  the  names  of 
places,  the  associations  that  cleave  to  the  very  soil,  that 
haunt  every  common  and  gather  about  every  church-yard 
in  the  old  country  may  in  some  sense  and  to  a  certain  de- 
gree take  the  place  of  written  history.      The  American 
must  find  all  these,  or  their  substitutes,  in  books  and  de- 
scriptions.    To  him  books  must  supply  the  place  of  tradi- 
tion, and  it  is  in  books  only  that  he  can  interpret  the  origin 
of  the  laws,  the  government,  the  church,  the  opinions,  and 
manners,  which  make  his  country  to  be  what  it  is.     The 
resident  of  old    England    smiles  at  the  enthusiasm  with 
which  the  American  visits  the  old  churches  and  church- 
yards to  which  he  has  been  wonted  from  his  infancy.     He 
wonders  at  the  delight  with  which  the   stranger   explores 
the  rickety  houses  and  the  rambling  old  streets  of  many  a 


182  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  XIIL 

city  or  village  which  to  him  are  only  squalid  and  offensive. 
But  the  same  enthusiasm  which  sends  the  intelligent 
American  to  England  to  explore  the  home  of  his  fathers, 
should  lead  him  to  study  with  care  and  zeal  the  records  of 
what  his  ancestors  did  and  suffered  in  the  same  old  home. 
The  best  History  of  England  for  the  general  reader  is 
Knight's  Popular  History  in  8  vols.  8vo.  It  comes  down 
to  the  death  of  Prince  Albert,  and  is  a  history  of  the  peo- 
ple as  well  as  of  courts  and  tlie  cultivated  classes.  It  is  a 
history  of  manners  and  of  literature,  of  the  arts  and  of 
commerce,  as  truly  as  of  the  politics  and  the  wars  of  the 
empire.  It  is  not  written  with  the  spirit  and  the  power 
which  we  find  in  such  writers  as  Macaulay  and  Froude. 
This  would  not  be  expected  from  a  writer  who  acts  rather 
as  the  gatherer  of  the  results  and  the  conclusions  which 
have  been  reached  by  a  judicial  survey  of  tli^  movements 
and  strifes  of  political  and  religious  parties  than  as  the  repre- 
sentative and  advocate  of  any.  Its  tone  is  quiet  and  cool.  Its 
summings  up  are  deliberate  and  dispassionate.  It  is  writ- 
ten, indeed,  in  the  interest  of  freedom,  of  progress,  and  of 
toleration.  It  sympathizes  with  the  people  rather  than  with 
their  rulers,  and  with  free  principles  and  free  institutions, 
as  against  the  defenders  of  prerogative  and  of  tradition,  but 
it  aims  to  be  neither  violent  nor  one-sided.  We  think,  there- 
fore, that  for  a  single  histoiy  which  may  serve  for  constant 
use  and  reference  in  the  library,  or  for  frequent  reading,  it 
is  to  be  preferred  to  every  other.  The  Pictorial  History  of 
England,  in  ^  vols.  4to.  by  the  same  editor,  was  prepared 
earlier,  and  with  less  skill  in  respect  to  style  and  form.  It 
is  also  more  overloaded  with  matter,  and  is  so  heavy  in 
style  as  to  be  less  readable.  It  terminates  with  the  death 
of  George  III.  We  have  already  given  our  opinion  of 
Hume's  History  as  delightful  in  style  and  most  readable 
in  manner,  but  as  open  to  grave  objection  for  its  intensely 
partisan  character,  as  well  as  for  the  flippant  though  grace- 


Chap.  XIII.]       -4  Course  of  Historical  Reading.    *       183 

ful  insinuations  with  which  it  aboun^  to  the  disadvantage 
of  freedom  and  Christianity.  No  diligent  and  zealous 
reader  of  English  history,  however,  would  be  contented 
not  to  be  familiar  witii  Hume.  Among  the  special  his- 
torians who  treat  of  separate  portions  or  periods  of  history, 
we  name  the  brilliant  and  spirited  Macaulay,  who  always 
sustains  and  excites  the  reader,  even  if  offended  by  his 
style,  or  forced  to  reject  his  conclusions ;  Lingard,  who  is 
universally  acknowledged  to  be  eloquent  and  able,  al- 
though he  writes  as  the  avowed  defender  of  the  Catholic 
Church  against  the  representations  of  Protestant  histori- 
ans ;  Lord  Mahon,  now  Earl  Stanhope,  who  always 
writes  with  dignity  and  elegance,  and  inspires  confidence 
in  his  candor  if  he  does  not  transport  the  reader  with  en- 
thusiasm for  his  brilliancy ;  Froude,  whose  merits  as  a 
writer  are  universally  acknowledged,  and  who  has  certain- 
ly set  forth  in  a  bold  relief,  an  important  class  of  facts 
concerning  the  people  of  England  and  the  state  of  the  times, 
even  though  his  opinions  in  regard  to  Henry  VIII.,  rather 
astonish  than  convince  his  readers.  Godwin's  History  of 
England  during  the  Commonwealth  and  Catharine  Macau- 
lay's  History  of  England  have  not  been  read  so  generally 
in  England  as  they  deserved,  because  of  their  pronounced 
Republican  sympathies.  Sir  James  Mackintosh's  brief 
and  unfinished  history  is  pronounced  by  all  who  have 
read  it  to  be  brilliant  and  philosophical,  though  its  style  is 
better  suited  to  philosophical  generalization  than  it  is  to 
flowing  narrative.  Clarendon's  History  of  the  Rebellion  is 
written  with  warm  sympathies  for  the  cause  of  Charles  I., 
but  it  has  the  interest  which  pertains  to  a  narrative  com- 
posed by  one  who  was  personally  present  during  many 
of  the  stirring  scenes  of  the  most  memorable  movement 
by  which  England  was  ever  agitated,  and  was  person- 
ally acquainted  with  many  of  the  leading  spirits  of  those 
times.     TJie  Life  of   Colonel  Hutchinson,  by  his   widow, 


184r  Books  and  Heading.  [Chap.  Xlii. 

herself  the  fairest  and  the  most  cultivated  of  Puritanesses, 
and  the  Narrative  of  his  own  Life  and  Times  by  Richard 
Baxter,  have  a  similar  fresh  and  personal  interest.  Both 
.these  works  are  written  under  sympathies  and  a  bias  in  a 
direction  opposed  to  those  of  Clarendon.  Carlyle's  Letters 
and  Speeches  of  Oliver  Cromwell  is  fraught  with  interest  to 
every  honest  inquirer  for  historic  truth.  It  has  made  the 
name  of  Cromwell  respected  in  circles  that  for  generations 
had  named  it  with  contemptuous  scorn,  and  came  near 
to  give  Cromwell  a  statue  among  the  rulers  of  England  in 
the  corridor  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament.  The  Diary  of 
John  Evelyn  was  written  by  a  devoted  Royalist  of  accom- 
plished culture  and  earnest  religious  character.  It 
stretches  through  the  times  of  the  Commonwealth  into 
those  of  the  Restoration.  Pepys's  Diary  records  most 
fully  many  of  the  events  which  occurred  after  the  Restora- 
tion, and  presents  a  living  picture  of  those  frivolous  and 
shameless  times,  which  is  all  the  more  trustworthy  and 
life-like  because  the  writer  seems  unconscious  of  the  sever- 
ity of  the  sentence  with  which  he  condemns  what  he  often 
seems  to  palliate.  If  any  person  has  the  desire  or  is  laid 
under  the  necessity  to  learn  more  of  the  grossness  of 
the  shameless  court  of  Charles  II.,  he  may  peruse  the 
Memoirs  of  Count  de  Grammont  Butler's  Hudibras  should 
be  read  by  all  means  in  connection  with  the  history  of  the 
Rebellion  and  the  Commonwealth.  Burnet's  History  of 
his  own  Time  is  gossiping  and  garrulous,  but  honest.  No 
reader  can  doubt  that  the  author  might  easily  have  been 
misled  by  his  own  prejudices  and  the  misrepresentations 
of  others.  As  little  would  it  be  denied  by  any  one  that 
this  history  is  in  the  main  a  faithful  picture  of  the  men 
and  scenes  which  it  portrays.  Baxter  and  Burnet  write 
from  opposite  points  of  view.  Their  histories  cover  very 
nearly  the  same  period.  They  were  both  credulous  and 
one-sided ;  but  he  must  be  a  bold  partisan  who  would 


Chap.  XIII.]       -^  Course  of  Historical  Beading.  185 

deny  the  honesty  of  either.  Lord  John  Hervey's  Me- 
moirs of  the  Reign  of  George  II.,  Horace  Walpole's  Letters 
(several  series,)  and  his  Journal  of  the  Reign  of  George 
III.,  are  instructive  and  entertaining. 

Guizot's  History  of  the  Revolution  of  1648,  as  also 
Cromwell  and  Monk,  or  the  Fall  of  the  Republic,  are  of  espe- 
cial value  as  giving  the  opinions  upon  critical  questions  of 
a  candid  and  well-informed  Frenchman. 

Mackintosh's  History  of  the  Revolution  of  1688,  and 
Fox's  Life  of  James  II.,  are  both  written  by  earnest 
Whigs  and  pronounced  partisans  of  the  Revolution,  and 
are  esteemed  of  the  highest  authority.  If  one  reads  Ma- 
caulay,  however,  it  would  seem  that  he  might  be  satisfied  in 
this  direction.  There  is  one  political  history  of  England 
which  no  intelligent  reader,  especially  no  intelligent  Amer- 
ican, can  possibly  dispense  with,  and  that  is  The  Oonstitu- 
tional  History  of  England  by  the  judicious  and  fair-minded 
Hallam.  This  history,  with  the  supplement  of  the  same 
by  T.  E.  May,  from  1760  to  1860,  is  of  priceless  worth. 
We  would  almost  say  to  any  reader,  if  you  can  read  but  a 
single  history  of  England,  peruse  this  above  all  others,  for 
the  light  that  it  sheds  upon  what  is  most  important  to  us  in 
respect  to  the  heritage  which  we  have  received  and  derived 
from  our  English  ancestors.  It  should  never  be  forgotten 
that  what  has  made  our  country  what  it  is  was  but  the  devel- 
opment of  the  free  spirit,  the  principles,  the  rights,  and  the 
institutions  which  our  fathers  brought  with  them  across  the 
seas ;  and  that  the  story  of  the  origin  and  growth  of  all 
these  is  more  interesting  and  instructive  to  us  than  it  can 
be  to  the  Englishman  at  home.  The  beginnings  of  this 
history  of  Hallam  are  to  be  found  in  his  work  on  the  Mid- 
dle Ages.  Dr.  Robert  Vaughan's  Revolutions  of  English 
History  are  excellent  examples  of  instructive  and  trust- 
worthy historical  essays.  Vaughan's  History  of  England 
under  the  Stuarts  is  worth  consulting.     Goldwin  Smith's 


186  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xiil 

little  works  on  Ireland  and  The  Empire  are  of  surpassing 
interest  and  value.  Burton's  History  of  Scotland  is  the  best. 
There  are  not  a  few  readers  who  arc  especially  attracted 
to  the  history  of  the  stirring  times  of  the  Commonwealth. 
Such  readers  should  not  overlook  Mr.  John  Forster's 
Statesmen  of  the  Commonwcalth,\ns  history  of  TJie  Debates 
on  the  Grand  Remonstrance,  and  his  Life  of  Sir  John  Eliot. 
Goldwin  Smith's  Three  English  Statesmen  will  satisfy  the 
most  ardent  champion  of  the  cause  of  the  Parliament. 
Burton's  CromwelUan  Diary  will  attract  the  patient  delver 
into  the  sources  from  which  history  is  derived.  Tlie  com- 
parative freedom  of  the  press  which  was  so  long  allowed  in 
England  has  given  birth  to  a  multitude  of  political  pam- 
phlets, tracts,  handbills,  lampoons,  caricatures,  whicli  are 
invaluable  for  any  zealous  and  patient  student  of  any  of  the 
later  periods  of  English  history.  Some  of  these  have  been 
collected  and  reprinted  in  series,  like  Tlie  Somers  Tracts 
and  The  Harleian  Miscellany.  Many  others  have  been 
gathered  by  book-collectors,  and  are  found  in  the  largest 
and  best  furnished  libraries  in  this  country.  It  is  quite 
aside  from  our  aims  to  give  any  titles  or  references  for  mat- 
ter of  this  kind.  Those  who  liave  the  capacity  or  taste  for 
such  researches  usually  know  what  they  need  and  where  to 
find  it.  "NVe  only  observe  that  Hansard's  Debates,  Dods- 
ley's  Annual  Register,  and  the  Celebrated  State  Trials  can 
be  readily  found  and  referred  to.  The  collected  speeches 
of  the  great  orators  who  have  been  distinguished  at  the  bar 
and  in  Parliament,  and  the  biographies  of  the  great  politi- 
cal leaders,  are  the  most  interesting  commentaries  and 
illustrations  of  the  political  history  of  the  cotuitry.  A  very 
cx)nvenient  and  comprehensive  work  of  American  author- 
ship, Goodrich's  British  Eloquence,  contains  a  good  -selec- 
tion of  the  best  speeches  of  the  leading  British  orators,  from 
Sir  John  Eliot  to  Lord  Brougham,  with  carefully  i)repared 
sketches  of  the  life  and  times  of  each,  and  many  excellent 


Chap.  XIII.]      ^  Oourse  of  HtstoriGcU  Reading.  187 

explanatory  foot-notes.  This  book  has  been  highly  com- 
mended in  England,  which  has  produced  no  manual  which 
deserves  to  be  compared  with  it  for  comprehensiveness  and 
careful  preparation. 

The  history  of  the  British  Empire  can  scarcely  be  con- 
sidered as  in  any  sense  completed  if  Martin's  History  of  the 
Colonies  and  Mill's  British  India  are  not  consulted. 

Miss  Martineau's  History  of  England  since  the  Peace,  in 
4  vols.  8vo.,  is  very  full  upon  many  points  of  very  recent 
interest,  and  is  a  very  useful  compilation. 

The  earlier  history  of  England  may  attract  the  special 
attention  of  a  limited  class  of  readers.  The  works  of  J. 
M.  Kemble  are  of  the  highest  authority  in  Anglo-Saxon 
history,  but  Sharon  Turner's  History  of  the  AvgJo- Saxons 
will  meet  the  wants  of  most  readers,  and  is  easily  accessible. 
Sir  Francis  Palgrave's  England  during  the  Anglo-Saxon 
Period  is  also  one  of  the  few  classical  books  in  this  depart- 
ment. John  Thrupp's  Anglo-Saxon  Home  is  a  monograph 
of  no  little  interest.  Our  English  Home:  its  Early  History 
and  Progress,  is  a  work  of  similar  character.  Thierry's 
History  of  the  Norman  Conquest,  from  the  French,  is  bril- 
liantly written,  though  probably  in  many  points  more  elo- 
quent and  highly  colored  than  solidly  true.  Freeman's 
History  of  the  Norman  Conquest  is  likely  to  supersede  all 
other  books  on  this  subject.  T.  Wright's  History  of  Press, 
Manners,  and  Sentiments  in  England  during  the  Middle 
Ages  is  a  work  of  some  interest,  though  not  superior  to 
the  chapters  in  the  Pictorial  History  upon  these  topics. 

A  few  among  many  historical  novels  may  be  named 
whicli  illustrate  differeat  periods  of  English  history.  E/' 
L.  Bulwer's  Last  of  the  Barons;  Scott's  luanhoe,  Kenil-\ 
worth,  Woodstock,  Fortunes  of  Nigel,  Peveril  of  the  Peak, 
Old  Mortality,  etc.,  etc.;  Kingslcy's  Heretvard  and  West- 
loard  Ho!  Thackeray's  Henry  Esmond;  The  Youth  of 
Shakespeare;    W.  Shakespeare,  His  Life  and  Times ;  Mrs. 


1 88  Books  and  Reading.  [Cdap.  xul 

Charles'  ITie  Draytons  and  the  Bavenanfs,  and  On  Both 
Sides  of  the  Sea,  are  a  few  of  the  many  talcs  which  are 
^tted  to  throw  no  little  light  and  interest  upon  different 
periods  and  passages  of  English  history.  To  the  same 
class  of  works  belong  The  Diary  of  Lady  Willoughhy,  The 
Maiden  and  3Iarried  Life  of  Mary  Powell,  and  others. 

We  have  already  recognized  the  important  truth  that 
the  literature  of  every  country  must  be  freely  and  famil- 
iarly consulted  in  order  to  master  its  history.  This  is  true 
in  a  pre-eminent  sense  of  English  history.  The  freedom 
of  thought  and  speech  which  the  English  people  have  as- 
serted for  themselves  from  very  early  times  has  expressed 
itself  in  an  endless  variety  of  productions  more  or  less 
worthy  to  be  called  its  literature,  the  study  of  which  en- 
ables us  to  understand  the  temper  of  the  times.  The  more 
we  read  the  great  writers  of  each  generation,  the  more 
completely  can  we  understand  the  spirit  of  the  age  in  which 
they  lived.  The  more  various  our  reading  is,  especially 
of  all  sorts  of  ephemeral  and  miscellaneous  publications,  the 
greater  will  be  our  satisfaction.  INIuch  ot  the  most  lively 
and  most  effective  English  writing  has  been  composed  u2)on 
political  themes  and  occasions.  Much  of  it  has  been  in- 
spired by  the  noblest  patriotism,  in  the  double  form  of 
chivalrous  loyalty  on  the  one  side,  and  of  stern  devotion  to 
the  Parliament  and  the  people  on  the  other.  Not  a  little 
of  the  most  spirited  thought  and  the  most  effective  writing 
have  been  incited  by  party  virulence.  John  Milton,  An- 
drew Marvel,  John  Dryden,  Daniel  Defoe,  Roger  L'Es- 
trange,  Jonathan  Swift,  Samuel  Johnson,  Etlmund  Burke, 
Sir  James  Mackintosh,  Richard  Price,  Lord  Brougliam, 
Samuel  Romilly,  Sydney  Smitli,  Robert  Southcy,  William 
Cobbett,  S.  T.  Coleridge,  John  Wilson,  T.  B.  Macaulay, 
Richard  Cobden,  and  hosts  of  otherc,  have  been  distin- 
guishe<l  as  political  writers,  and  every  reader  of  their 
writings  of  necessity  makes  new  additions  to  his  knowledge 


Chap.  XIII.]       A  Course  of  Historical  Beading.  189 

of  the  events  of  English  history.  Wliat  we  have  said  in 
general  of  the  significance  of  pamphlets  and  newspapers  as 
interpreters  of  history,  is  in  a  special  sense  true  of  the  his- 
tory of  England  and  America.  For  the  American  who,  not 
having  visited  England,  would  understand  the  country  in 
many  of  its  most  interesting  features  both  physical  and  so- 
cial the  following  may  be  named,  H.  Colman's  European 
Life  and  Manners,  Wm.  Howitt's  Rural  Life  in  England^ 
J.  M.  IIop])in's  Old  England. 

y(e  hardly  need  add,  that  much  of  the  best  and  most 
permanent  knowledge  of  the  history  of  England  is  to  be 
acquired  by  the  study  of  the  lives  of  its  eminent  men. 
Many  of  these  lives  have  been  written  with  special  care  by 
their  personal  and  familiar  friends,  or  those  devoted  to  the 
causp  or  interest  in  which  they  were  conspicuous.  In- 
dividual men  in  England  have  always  been  prominent  in 
the  eye  of  the  public,  and  have  impressed  themselves 
strongly  upon  every  great  cause.  The  lives  of  John  Knox, 
John  Wesley,  Johnson,  Goldsmith,  Burke,  Garrick,  Rey- 
nolds, Chatham,  Pitt,  Buxton,  Walter  Scott,  Chalmers, 
Arnold,  Keble;  of  Romilly,  Robert  Hall,  and  Henry 
Crabb  Robinson,  are  not  less  valuable  as  contributions  to 
the  general  history  of  the  times  in  which  these  individuals 
lived,  than  as  additions  to  our  personal  knowledge  of  in- 
dividual character. 

The  history  of  America  is  limited  especially  to  that  of 
the  United  States,  for  reasons  which  are  so  obvious  as  not 
to  require  enumeration.  Bancroft  is  very  full,  and  gen- 
erally very  accurate,  on  the  Colonial  history  of  the  States, 
and  his  history  generally  is  indispensable  as  a  work  of  re- 
ference. It  is  unfortunately  written  in  an  ambitious  style, 
which  sometimes  excessively  crowds  the  information  which 
it  seeks  to  give,  and  not  infrequently  distracts  the  atten- 
tion by  affected  turns  of  thought  and  exaggerated  declama- 
tion.     It  is  foolishly  demagogical  at  times,  and  betrays 


190  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.xiii. 

also  somewhat  of  the  want  of  earnest  faith  in  tlie  very 
trutlis  and  principles  which  it  ostentatiously  j)aradcs  before 
the  reader.  In  one  word,  it  is  very  deficient  in  the  sterling 
qualities  of  simplicity  of  matter  and  of  manner.  Hildreth 
lacks  neither  earnestness  nor  directness.  Unfortunately, 
this  very  able  wa'iter,  though  wholesome  and  whole-souled 
in  his  strong  attachments  to  the  Federal  party,  is  so  obvi- 
ously bitter  in  his  spirit,  and  intolerant  in  his  judgments,  as 
to  weaken  the  confidence  of  his  readers  in  his  candor  and 
trustworthiness  in  respect  to  all  subjects.  His  history 
terminates  with  the  first  term  of  Monroe's  administration. 
He  has  no  sympathy  with  religious  faith  or  fervor  in  any 
form ;  least  of  all  with  the  religious  aims  of  the  New-Eng- 
land-settlers,  and  no  tolerance  for  their  political  systems. 
He  docs  them  scant  justice  in  many  other  particulars. 
Palfrey's  Tliatory  of  New  England  is  eminently  fair,  truth- 
ful, and  trustworthy  in  its  representations  of  its  themes, 
as  well  as  a  model  for  classical  condensation  and  elegance. 
Burke's  History  of  European  Settlements  in  America  is 
written  with  spirit  and  philosophic  insight,  and  Parkman'3 
well  known  volumes  need  only  be  referred  to  in  2)assing. 
The  history  of  almost  every  State  in  the  Union  has  been 
written  by  some  well-known  writer.  Many  of  these  States 
liave  also  an  historical  society  which  has  published  collec- 
tions of  old  pamphlets  and  other  important  documents. 
The  histories  of  many  counties,  towns,  and  churches  have 
been  written  with  more  or  less  fidelity  and  success.  These 
particular  and  local  histories  should  receive  especial  atten- 
tion from  every  person  who  reads  histoiy  at  all.  These 
local  fields  arc  within  the  reader's  own  observation.  The 
events  and  personages  are  those  of  which  he  can  form,  in 
some  sort,  a  personal  judgment.  Human  nature  is  very 
nearly  the  same  on  a  large  and  on  a  limited  scale.  A 
town-meeting  is  a  Congress  or  Parliament  in  miniature. 
A  village  or  church  quarrel  represents  a  national  war  or 


Chap.  XIII.]       -4  Course  of  Historical  Heading.  191 

an  ecclesiastical  schism.  A  traditional  jealousy  between 
the  north  and  south  end,  or  the  east  and  west  side  of  a 
township,  is  the  type  of  a  great  sectional  controversy  that 
has  endured  for  generations.  A  dispute  over  a  mill  privi- 
lege or  a  town-line  represents  many  a  border  war.  A. 
sharp  discussion  between  the  supervisors  of  two  towns  is  a 
school  in  which  to  study  diplomacy,  and  its  skill  to  conceal 
intentions  and  to  use  ambiguous  language.  If  we  become 
familiar  with  the  history  of  what  is  within  our  reach ;  if 
we  learn  to  know  what  history  means  by  reading  it  when 
written  of  the  persons,  events,  and  scenes  which  are  in  a 
certain  sense  personally  known  to  ourselves,  we  shall  be 
able  to  understand  it  when  it  treats  of  objects  that  are  dis- 
tant in  place,  remote  in  time,  and  grand  in  their  propor- 
tions. We  do  not  include  in  our  list  any  titles  of  books 
or  collections  of  this  sort,  for  the  most  obvious  reasons. 

The  study  of  the  government  and  institutions  of  this 
country,  and  of  the  origins  and  transformations  of  its  great 
political  parties  cannot  be  too  earnestly  recommended. 
The  best  works  on  these  subjects  are  The  Federalist,  which 
has  been  edited  with  great  care  and  published  in  two  rival 
editions ;  The  Madison  Papers,  and  the  lives  of  Washing- 
ton by  John  Marshall  and  Washington  Irving.  A  very 
able  work,  with  Federalist  sympathies,  entitled  Sullivan's 
Letters  on  Public  Characters,  is  invaluable — as  is  also 
Theodore  Dwight's  Ilistorij  of  the  Hartford  Convention. 
For  the  illustration  and  defence  of  the  Jeffersonian  princi- 
ples no  better  authority  can  be  found  than  Jefferson's  col- 
lected writings,  and  the  laudatory  memoir  of  his  life  by 
Randall.  G.  T.  Curtis'  History  of  the  Origin,  etc.,  of  the 
V.  S.  Constitution,  with  the  Commentaries  on  the  con- 
stitution, by  the  eminent  jurists  Kent  and  Story,  are 
classical  works  on  this  subject.  Benton's  Thirty  Years' 
View,  or  History  of  the  Government  from  1810  to  1850, 
with  Martin  Van  Buren's  History  of  Political  Parties^  and 


192  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xiil. 

Buchanan's  History  of  his  Administration,  coupled  with  the 
Speeches  of  Clay,  Calhoun,  AVebster,  Seward,  and  Sumner, 
will  enable  the  reader  to  understand  our  political  history. 
Benton's  Abridgement  of  Debates  in  Congress  may  be  found 
and  consulted  in  many  public  and  some  private  libraries. 
Frank  Moore's  American  Eloquence^  a  Collection  of 
Speeches  by  the  most  eminent  Orators  of  America,  will  al- 
ways be  useful. 

For  the  American  Revolution,  Botta  may  be  read  in  ad- 
dition to  what  Bancroft  and  Hildreth  furnish.  B.  J.  Los- 
sing's  Pictorial  Field-book  of  the  Revolution  as  also  of  The 
War  of  1812,  gives  the  picturesque  and  striking  incidents 
of  both,  and  G.  W.  Greene's  Lectures,  etc.,  a  generalized 
statement  of  the  leading  facts  and  lessons  of  the  first. 
Trumbull's  Hudibrastic  poem,  3IcFingal,  should  by  no 
means  be.  omitted.  For  the  history  of  the  civil  war,  The 
Rebellion  Record  is  a  great  storehouse  of  documents,  and 
Greeley's  American  Conflict  a  condensed  view  of  its  memor- 
able events.  Lossing's  Pictorial  History  has  the  same 
charm  which  belong  to  the  other  works  of  the  same  author. 
The  lives  of  Lincoln,  by  Raymond,  Holland,  and  others, 
and  separate  sketches  of  the  campaigns  of  Sherman,  Grant, 
etc.,  will  occur  to  every  one. 

What  has  been  said  of  the  relation  of  the  biography  of 
Englishmen  to  the  history  of  England  applies  to  that  of 
the  biography  of  -Americans  to  our  history  with  equal  per- 
tinence. 

As  the  reader  makes  progress  in  the  knowletlge  of  his- 
tory he  will  naturally  desire  to  read  some  works  upon  the 
study  and  philosophy  of  history  itself;  in  order  to  learn 
something  of  the  sources  from  whic^h  it  is  derived,  of  the 
evidence  by  which  its  assertions  are  supported,  and  the  les- 
sons which  it  inculcates.  In  some  works  of  tin's  kind  parti- 
cular directions  are  given  in  respect  to  the  authors  and 
parts   of  authors  which  should  be  read  upon   particular 


Chap.  XIII.]       -4  Course  of  Historical  Reading.  193 

countries  and  periods.  Bolingbroke  on  The  Use  and  IStudy 
of  History  was  formerly  much  read  and  referred  to. 
Priestly's  Lectures  on  the  Study  of  History  is  a  useful  book. 
Dr.  Thomas  Arnold's  Lectures  on  Modern  History,  and 
Goldwin  Smith's  Lectures  on  the  Study  of  Jlistory  are  good 
books  for  the  general  reader.  G.  C  Lewis'  Credibility  of 
early  dioman  History,  and  W.  C.  Taylor  On  the  Natural 
History  of  Society  are  standard  works.  Prof.  Henry  Reed 
is  the  author  of  some  very  elevating  and  suggestive  lectures 
on  English  history.  Prof.  AVilliam  Smyth's  Lectures  on 
Modern  History,  edited  by  Sparks,  is  at  once  an  extended 
directory  for  study  and  a  manual  of  the  best  books  and 
parts  of  books  which  should  be  read.  Frederick  Schlegel's 
Modern  History,  and  A.  AV.  Schlegel's  Philosophy  of  His- 
tory, are  well  worth  attention  as  good  specimens  of  German 
generalization  and  philosophizing.  The  philosophy  of 
Buckle's  History  of  Civilization  in  England  we  have  already 
characterized.  AY.  Draper's  The  Intellectual  Development 
of  Europe,  is  written  after  the  manner  of  Buckle.  Some 
of  the  ablest  contributions  upon  this  subject  are  in  the  form 
of  essays  or  reviews  upon  history  in  general  or  upon  some 
historical  writer.  We  name  as  examples  Macaulay's  well- 
known  article  on  History  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  and  an 
article  on  Hume  as  an  Historian  in  No.  73  of  the  London 
Quarterly.  The  indexes  of  modern  j)eriodical  literature 
abound  in  the  titles  of  such  papers. 

It  is  safe  to  say  that  much  which  is  written  on  the  Phil- 
osophy of  History  is  the  product  of  conjecture,  pretension, 
or  an  atheistic  theory  of  the  universe,  and  much  more  is 
mere  philosophical  romancing. 

The  list  of  books  which  we  have  furnished  may  seem  to 

many  very  meagre,  and   to    others    much   too    extensive. 

The   titles    of  many  works  have  doubtless  been  omitted 

which  should   have  been  included  in  a  list  constructed  for 

the  ends  and  according  to  the  theory  which  we  have  pro- 
13 


194  Books  and  Beading.  [Chap.  xiir. 

posed.  We  have  endeavored  to  indicate  the  books  which 
should  te  preferred  by  the  place  which  they  occupy  in  the 
several  heads  of  the  catalogue,  or  by  the  comments  which 
we  have  made  upon  them ;  but  in  selections  of  this  sort 
much  liberty  should  be  allowed  to  individual  taste  and 
judgment.  Advice  ought  not  to  be  urged  beyond  certain 
general  suggestions  and  information.  We  can  only  say 
that  the  list  has  been  prepared  with  some  care  and  pains- 
taicing,  and  is  doubtless  capable  of  being  enlarged  and  im- 
proved. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

BIOGRAPHY   AND    BIOGRAPHICAL,   READING. 

Biography  is  closely  allied  to  History.  We  have  ob- 
served, that  it  is  only  by  reading  the  lives  of  distinguished 
personages,  that  we  can  most  satisfactorily  acquaint  our- 
selves with  much  that  is  valuable  in  History.  It  has  been 
forcibly  said  that  "  History  is  the  essence  of  innumerable  ( 
biographies." 

There  is  an  important  distinction,  however,  between 
biography  as  the  interpreter  and  representative  of  other 
times,  and  biography  as  the  record  of  an  individual  life 
and  the  exponent  of  individual  character.  It  is  with 
biography  in  the  last  sense  that  we  have  now  to  do.  The 
written  lives  of  individual  men  are  as  various  as  the  men 
who  are  described,  and  the  writers  who  describe  them. 
Their  interest  and  worth  depend  upon  t^^•o  circumstances — 
the  significance  of  the  events  and  characters  recorded,  and 
the  skill  and  fidelity  of  their  narratore.  It  is  also  true  and 
worthy  of  notice,  that  the  interest  Avith  which  any  biography 
is  read — its  value  tmd  usefulness  indeed — may  depend 
nearly  as  much  upon  the  tastes  and  culture  of  the  reader  as 
upon  either  the  worth  and  interest  of  the  character  which 
is  recorded,  or  the  genius  of  the  biographer.  This,  in  a 
sense,  is  true  of  all  books,  but  it  is  especially  true  of  books 
of  lives. 

To  many  readers  biography  is  especially  uninteresting 
and  unattractive.  Not  a  few  persons  have  been  heard  to 
say,  "  I  hate  biography — to  me  it  is  the  stupidest  of  all 
reading."     It  would  seem  at  first  to  be  a  general  fact  that 

195 


196  Books  and  Heading.  [Chap.  xiv. 

the  taste  for  biography  must  be  acquired,  like  the  taste  for 
tomatoes  or  olives.  On  a  second  thought,  however,  the 
suggestion  might  occur  that  the  fact  is  capable  of  some 
sort  of  explanation.  The  first  solution  would  probably  be, 
that  biography  must  always  put  the  reader  upon  a  course 
of  analysis  and  reflection  which  is  unnatCiral  to  most  men. 
As  the  majority  of  readers  do  not  care  to  examine  their 
own  motives  and  springs  of  action,  much  less  do  they  con- 
cern themselves  with  those  of  other  persons.  Very  many, 
again,  do  not  like  soberly  to  estimate  themselves  by  any 
very  high  standard,  whether  it  be  of  public  opinion,  of 
conscience,  or  of  God,  and  for  a  similar  reason  prefer  not 
to  judge  the  being  and  doing  of  their  fellows.  To  this 
should  be  added,  that  the  capacity  for  this  sort  of  analysis 
is  not  developed,  if  ever,  till  late  in  life,  and  hence  is  es- 
pecially unsuited  to  the  tastes  of  youth. 

In  view  of  these  facts,  we  propose  to  consider  the  dif- 
ferent sorts  of  biographies  and  the  different  methods  after 
which  biography  is  written,  in  order  that  we  may  explain 
why  it  is  that  the  taste  for  this  kind  of  writing  is  so  vari- 
ous,—  and  also  furnish  a  general  directory  for  this  depart- 
ment of  reading.  We  aim  here,  as  elsewhere,  to  establish 
principles  by  which  to  select  and  judge  of  books  of  this 
class,  rather  than  to  furnish  a  complete  and  annotated  cat>- 
alogue,  to  be  implicitly  followed. 

The  first  class  of  biographies  w^hicn  we  name  are  those 
of  incident  and  adventure.  The  subjects  of  such  lives  are 
always  heroes,  and  the  life,  whether  true  or  exaggerated, 
is  more  or  less  of  a  romance.  In  biographies  of  this  kind, 
two  things  are  conspicuous  :  the  striking  events  and  un- 
common positions  by  which  the  life  of  the  hero  is  dis- 
tinguished, and  the  spirit,  skill,  and  courage  with  which 
he  meets  and  overcomes  them.  Books  of  this  sort  are 
favorites  with  the  young,  especially  with  boys.  It  cannot 
be  said  that  such  biographies  are  stupid  or  uninteresting 


Chap.  XIV.]     Biography  and  Biographical  Reading.       197 

to  that  usually  very  fastidious  class  of  readers.  Very  few 
boys  are  indifferent  to  such  lives  as  those  of  General 
Francis  Marion,  Commodore  Paul  Jones,  Charles  XII., 
Admiral  Nelson,  General  Andrew  Jackson,  Napoleon 
Buonaparte,  General  Sherman  or  Stonewall  Jackson, 
Baron  Trenck,  Frederic  Douglass,  Mungo  Park,  Captain 
Parry  or  Dr.  E.  K.  Kane.  It  matters  little  in  what 
particular  field  of  adventure  the  hero  may  be  engaged,  it 
is  all  the  same  to  the  boyish  and  often  to  the  older  reader ; 
provided  the  adventures  are  sufficiently  stirring  and  haz- 
ardous, and  the  spirit  and  resources  of  the  hero  are  equal 
to  the  occasions.  Whether  it  be  on  the  battle-field  or  in  a 
prison,  in  a  storm  or  a  shipwreck,  whether  the  conflicts  be 
with  bad  men  or  good,  with  villains  or  policemen,  if  the 
adventures  and  the  heroism  move  the  sympathies  and  excite 
the  admiration,  the  life  is  always  interesting,  even  to  boys. 
Upon  this  principle  we  explain  the  strong  hold  which 
Plutarch's  Lives  have  had  upon  the  minds  of  so  many  boys 
and  so  many  men  for  so  many  generations.  The  grand- 
iose attitudes  in  which  the  great  men  of  antiquity  stand 
out  to  view — not  so  much  men,  as  moving  and  walking 
statues — and  the  grand  lights  in  which  their  biographer 
displays  them,  both  contribute  to  this  impressiveness,  and 
have  stamped  their  influence  upon  all  the  generations 
which  have  read  them.  The  lives  of  great  criminals  espe- 
cially when  narrated  by  themselves,  the  confessions  of 
famous  murderers,  pirates,  and  forgers,  derive  much  of 
their  interest  from  the  same  sources.  By  these  we  exj)lain 
the  potent  and  often  dangerous  fascination  which  attracts 
so  many  to  stories  of  lives  which  were  stained  by  daring 
crime  and  dishonored  by  gross  excesses  of  cruelty  and  vio- 
lence. The  excitement  of  the  incidents  and  the  pluck  of 
the  hero  are  more  than  a  match  for  any  horror  of  cruelty 
or  aversion  to  crime  in  the  youthful  reader.  It  cannot, 
we  think,  be  said,  that  any  of  the'  biographies  of  the  cla.s8 


198  Books  and  Reading-  [Chap.  xiv. 

to  which  we  have  referred  are  especially  unattractive,  or 
that  the  readiug  of  such  lives  is  especially  stupid. 

To  the  same  class  we  refer  the  lives  oi  great  generals  and 
'captains,  which  have  fascinated  so  many  young  readers 
with  the  thought  of  a  military  or  naval  career,  and  have 
so  long  been  the  favorite  reading  of  multitudes  of  older 
people.  Who  has  not  delighted  to  read  the  story  of  Alex- 
ander of  Macedon  and  Julius  Csesar,  of  Prince  Eugene  and 
Gustavus  Adolphus,  of  the  Duke  of  Marlborough  and 
Frederick  the  Great,  of  Napoleon  and  Wellington,  of  the 
Napiers  and  Lord  Clive,  of  General  Ilavelock  and  Captain 
Hedlcy  Vicars,  of  Generals  Grant  and  Sherman,  and  last, 
not  least,  of  the  many  youthful  heroes  who  fell  in  our  re- 
cent civil  war?  No  books  arc  more  popular  than  the  lives 
of  old  or  young  soldiers,  with  both  yoimg  and  old.  The 
Harvard  Memorial  Biographies  has  largely  this  clement  of 
interest,  as  well  as  many  that  arc  far  higl;vT. 

Akin  to  the  interest  with  which  military  biographies  are 
studied  and  read,  is  that  which  is  attached  to  distinguished 
historical  personages.  Such  characters  are  indeed  often 
military  heroes;  but  whether  they  are  or  are  not,  their 
career  is  of  that  public  and  heroic  sort  Avhiclx  attracts  the 
attention  of  those  readers  who  require  startling  scenes  and 
splendid  actions.  The  lives  of  kings  and  queens,  of  cour- 
tiers and  court  flivoritcs,  have  always  been  noticeably  popu- 
lar; the  more  minute  and  detailed  are  their  description? 
of  the  scenes  in  which  they  figure,  so  much  the  better. 
Whether  the  scene  be  jniblic  or  private;  whether  it  be  a 
pageant  or  a  ball,  whether  a  frivolous  or  a  criminal  in- 
trigue, is  altogether  indifferent.  The  elevation  of  the  station, 
the  splendor  of  the  surroundings  and  the  wide-reaching 
character  of  the  results  will  always  invest  the  life  of  the 
central  pei'sonage  with  a  real  or  a  factitious  imjiortance. 
The  biographies  of  Alexander  and  the  Ga^sars,  cf  Charle- 
magne and  Alfred  the  Great,  of  Heniy  IV.  of  France  and 


Chap.  XIV.]     Biography  and  Biographical  Reading.      199 

Henry  VIII.  of  England,  of  Charles  V.  and  Francis  I., 
of  Philip  II.  and  William  the  Silent,  of  Frederick  the 
Great  and  George  III.,  of  Charles  I.  and  Oliver  Cromwell, 
of  James  II.  and  William  III.,  of  Elizabeth  and  Mary 
Stuart,  of  all  the  Queens  of  England  down  to  Victoria,  are 
read  with  breathless  interest  in  many  a  log-hut  and  thatched 
cottage,  simply  because  the  personages  were  kingly  or  great. 
The  reading  of  kings  and  courts  introduces  to  the  imagina- 
tion brilliant  pageants,  splendid  dresses,  imposing  state, 
thrones,  crowns,  gorgeous  robes,  and  long  processions  of  per- 
sonages magnificently  grand.  Indeed,  as  we  have  already 
noticed,  much  of  our  pleasure  in  reading  history  arises  from 
our  sympathy  with  the  fortunes  and  the  story  of  the  great 
historical  personages  who  have  figured  prominently  in  its 
scenes  of  splendor  or  depression,  of  victory  or  defeat. 

Closely  allied  to  these  are  great  statesmen  and  political 
leaders,  diplomatists  and  orators,  who  have  helped  and 
hindered  sovereigns  and  nations,  whose  intellect  and  skill 
have  sustained  or  thwarted  the  plans  of  kings,  have  inspired 
the  achievements  or  marred  the  fortunes  of  great  nations. 
The  interest  in  the  events  and  the  heroes  is  in  these  cases 
of  a  more  elevated  description.  The  arena  is  intellectual, 
the  struggles  are  of  sagacity,  eloquence,  or  craft.  The 
issues  are  the  progress  or  regress,  the  triumph  or  downfall 
of  a  great  party  or  a  great  empire.  The  reader  who  has 
intelligence  enough  to  comprehend  the  nature  of  such  strug- 
gles, and  the  courage  and  skill  which  are  required  for  suc- 
cess, always  follows  with  interest  the  personal  career  of 
this  class  of  great  men.  The  lives  of  Wolsey,  Sir  Thomas 
More,  and  Cranmer,  interest  us  as  deeply  as  the  life  of 
Plenry  VIII.  The  personal  character  and  history  of  Bur- 
leigh, Leicester,  Essex,  Raleigh,  and  Bacon, we  follow  with 
as  keen  an  interest  as  the  career  of  the  impei'ious  but  capri- 
cious Elizabeth,  and  the  pedantic  and  conceited  James.  The 
lives  of  Laud  and  Strafford  are,  if  possible,  more  exciting 


200  Books  and  Heading.  [Chap.  xiv. 

than  those  of  the  ill-fated  sovereign  whom  their  counsels 
so  fatally  mTsled.  Sir  John  Eliot,  John  Hampden,  Lord 
Falkland,  William  Pym,  Sir  Plarry  Vane,  and  Colonel 
Hutchinson  have  left  lives  as  fraught  with  exciting  interest 
as  that  of  Cromwell  himself.  We  follow  the  lives  of  Alirer- 
non  Sidney  and  of  Lord  Russell  with  far  more  breathless 
attention  than  we  do  the  stupid  and  senseless  course  of  the 
bigoted  monarch  who  sent  them  both  to  the  scaffold.  Riche- 
lieu, Mazarin,  Sully,  and  De  Retz,  each  had  a  personal 
character  and  a  personal  career  which  has  an  interest  separ- 
ate from  the  character  and  career  of  the  great  monarchs 
whom  they  served.  Lord  Somers  and  the  great  Whig 
leaders  of  the  Revolution  of  1688  interest  us  by  the  adroit- 
ness and  personal  courage  with  which  they  planned  and 
achieved  a  bloodless  victory  for  the  rights  of  the  English 
people  and  the  establishment  of  constitutional  restraints 
upon  the  crown.  The  lives  of  Chatham,  Fox,  and  Burke 
are  as  exciting  as  a  drama  to  one  who  knows  what  were  the 
forces  against  which  their  lives  were  a  perpetual  struggle, 
and  what  were  the  weapons  of  argument  and  oratory,  of 
sagacity  and  leadership,  with  which  they  strove.  Pitt  pre- 
sents in  his  life  a  history  as  interesting  as  that  of  the  great 
soldier  against  whom  he  subsidized  the  armies  of  Europe 
with  the  wealth  of  England. 

We  follow  in  the  career  of  Brougham  and  Romilly, 
of  Mackintosh  and  Horner,  of  Macaulay  and  Cobden,  the 
great  thoughts,  the  courageous  daring,  and  the  persevering 
tenacity  which  have  overturned  the  traditional  policy  of 
'England  and  rooted  up  the  prejudices  of  centuries,  though 
backed  by  the  wealth  and  prestige  of  the  crown  and  aris- 
tocracy. 

If  we  think  of  our  own  country  we  find  the  interest  of 
a  drama  in  the  more  or  less  complete  and  satisfactory  biog- 
raphies which  we  have  of  the  lives  of  James  Otis  and 
Samuel  Adams,  of  Joseph  Warren  and  Patrick  Henry,  of 


Chap.  XIV.]  Biography  and  BiogTaphical  Reading.         201 

Benjamin  Franklin  and  Alexander  Hamilton,  of  Thomas 
Jefi'erson  and  Aaron  Burr,  of  John  Jay  and  Timothy  Pick- 
ering, of  John  Randolph  and  De  Witt  Clinton,  of  John  C. 
Calhoun  and  Henry  Clay,  of  Daniel  Webster  and  Martin 
Van  Buren,  of  Thomas  H.  Benton  and  William  H.  Seward. 
The  life  of  each  of  these  statesmen  and  orators  must  be 
intensely  exciting  to  every  one  who  can  comprehend  the 
great  objects  for  which  each  one  of  them  lived,  and  the 
energy  and  skill  which  each  displayed  in  bringing  over  the 
nation  to  his  own  opinions  and  policy.  It  may  be  ques- 
tioned whether  the  great  men  of  history  are  not  the  objects 
of  the  most  intense  personal  feelings  of  like  and  dislike, 
chiefly  because  we  view  them  as  struggling  for  or  against 
some  great  cause  or  party  which  we  ourselves  accept  or  re- 
ject. It  is  certain  that  every  one  follows  the  career  of  his 
favorite  orators  and  statesmen  with  somewhat  of  the  samo 
excited  suspense  with  which  he  watches  the  course  of  a 
living  party  leader  in  a  present  or  impending  conflict.  In 
England  and  America,  where  so  many  intelligent  persons 
take  so  warm  and  active  an  interest  in  political  questions 
and  party  leaders,  it  is  not  strange  that  the  most  positive 
and  excited  interest  should  be  felt  in  the  personal  history 
and  personal  character  of  the  great  men  who  have  organized 
or  led  those  political  parties  in  other  generations,  whose 
traditions  and  passions  are  still  active  in  the  present. 

Those  readers  who  rise  above  party  sympathies  and  con- 
siderations, and  are  interested  in  the  conflicts  and  struggles 
which  result  in  great  reforms,  whether  they  are  distinc- 
tively religious  or  political,  moral  or  social,  find  the  most 
abundant  excitement  in  the  life  of  any  great  Reformer. 
The  incidents  and  the  heroism  kindle  the  imagination 
and  stir  the  blood.  In  any  soul  in  which  the  sense  of 
public  justice  is  wakeful,  and  the  sympathy  with  human 
suffering  is  glowing,  and  the  courage  to  contend  against 
popular  opposition  is  determined,  there  is  the  capacity  to 


202  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xiv. 

be  stirred  by  the  life-history  of  any  man  who  lias  dared  to 
brave  power  and  faction  and  public  opinion  in  favor  of 
suppressed  truth,  an  oppressed  class,  or  a  much-needed  but 
long-delayed  reform. 

The  lives  of  Savonarola,  of  Luther,  of  Ignatius  Loyola, 
of  George  Fox,  of  John  Wesley,  of  William  Wilberforce, 
of  Thomas  Fowcll  Buxton,  of  John  Brown,  and  of  multi- 
tudes more,  never  want  for  sympathizing  readers,  even 
among  men  who  do  not  sympathize  with  the  principles  or 
the  spirit  of  their  heroes.  In  the  interest  which  is  aroused 
by  such  lives,  fanaticism  and  imprudence  are  overlooked  and 
forgiven,  and  bold  words  and  bolder  deeds  are  admired  and 
applauded.  The  dramatic  interest  of  the  shifting  positions 
of  the  contest,  and  the  imposing  attitudes  of  the  central 
figure,  often  fighting  single-handed  with  myriads  of  foes, 
engross  the  attention  and  carry  off  the  admiring  sympathy. 
We  admire  and  sometimes  adore  the  heroes  of  a  cause 
which  we  cannot  but  detest. 

The  biographies  of  self-made  men  are  almost  universally 
attractive.  No  man  of  any  generosity  or  spirit  can  avoid 
being  excited  by  the  determination  and  perseverance  which 
these  exemplify.  Only  a  snob  or  a  tuft-hunter,  or  a  toady 
to  the  rich  or  great,  is  ashamed  of  a  strong  interest  in  the 
men  who  have  risen  from  humble  beginnings.  They  are 
especially  fascinating  and  instructive  to  those  young  men 
of  limited  means  who  aspire  to  make  something  of  their  own 
lives.  Smiles'  Self-Help  abounds  iii  brief  sketches  of,  and 
allusions  to,  a  gre:it  number  of  men  of  this  class,  and  one  is 
surprised  in  reading  such  a  book  to  find  how  large  a  num- 
ber of  those  who  have  been  eminent  in  every  condition  in 
life  have  risen  from  lowly  conditions  at  the  start. 

The  interest  in  such  records  is  felt  alike  by  those  who 
have  already  risen  in  life  and  those  who  are  just  beginning 
to  rise — ])re-eminently  by  the  latter. 

This  leads  us  to  observe  that  those  who  are  earnestly  de- 


CnAP.  XIV.]     Biography  and  Biographical  Reading.       203 

voted  to  any  art  or  profession  are  especially  attracted  to  the 
lives  of  those  persons  who  have  attained  special  eminence  in 
a  similar  profession  or  employment.     Especially  is  this  the 
case  if  their  own  career  is  as  yet  incomplete — if  their  aspi- 
rations are  high  and  their  difficulties  are  manifold — if  the 
goal  is  bright  but  distant,  and  the  path  to  it  seems  Jong  and 
steep.     The  ever-present  consciousness  of  the   difficultit^s 
under  which  we  labor  leads  us  to  compare  our  own  condi- 
tion with  that  of  another  like  ourselves.    The  desire  to  over- 
come these  difficulties  and  to  attain  eminence  speedily,  leads 
us  to  consult  the  experience  of  those  who  have  succeeded, 
and  to  inquire  minutely  what  was  the  secret  of  their  success. 
We  are  never  tired  of  studying  their  devices,  of  hearing 
of  their  discouragements,  of  fighting  over  their  battles,  and 
of  triumphing  in  their  victories.     The  young  advocate  who 
is  looking  impatiently  for  his  first  brief,  or  who  is  forced  to 
wait  for  days  for  the  welcome  step  of  a  new  client,  reads 
with  intense  excitement  the  story  of  Erskine's  speedy  and 
brilliant  entrance  into  a   crowded   practice.     The  young 
lawyer  who  proposes  for  himself  a  successful  professional 
career,  which  shall  be  adorned  and  elevated  by  noble  aspi- 
rations and  liberal  culture,  can  find  few  books  which  are  so 
inspiriting  as  the  lives  of  Sir  Samuel  Romilly  and  Francis 
Horner,  of  Patrick  Henry  and  William  Wirt,  of  Daniel 
Webster  and  Rufus  Choate.     The  physician  who  wonders 
whence  his  patients  are  to  come,  and  whether  he  can  ever 
win  his  way  into  a  lucrative  practice,  reads  and  re-reads 
with  fresh  interest  the  life  and  experience  of  any  city  or 
country  doctor  which   he  may  chance  to  encounter.     The 
lives  of  John  Hunter  and  Sir  Charles  Bell  are  fraught  with 
inspiration  to  him. 

Many  a  journeyman  printer  has  been  inspired'  and,  as  it 
were,  remade,  by  the  records  w^hich  Franklin  has  left  of  his 
own  experiences  at  the  press.  Many  a  young  writer  has 
read  and  re-read  the  story  of  Franklin's  patient  attempts 


204  Books  and  Reading.  [CsAr.  XIV. 

to  attain  a  good  English  style.  The  popularity  of  Frank- 
lin's life  in  America  and  England  is  a  complete  refuta- 
tion of  the  assertion  that  biography  is  to  the  mass  of  read- 
ers essentially  stupid  and  uninviting.  The  life  of  tha 
Learned  Blacksmith  has  encouraged  not  a  few  laborers  at 
the  anvil.  The  lives  of  Watt  and  Arkwright,  of  Fulton 
and  Whitney,  of  Stephenson  and  Goodyear,  have  stimu- 
lated many  an  inventor  to  renewed  patience  and  courage. 
No  romance  can  excite  a  more  kindled  interest  and  excited 
enthusiasm  in  any  generous  mind  than  Hugh  Miller's  3Ii/ 
ScJiools  and  Schoolmasters,  as  no  book  can  possibly  be 
more  instructive  to  the  working-man  who  will  follow  its 
guidance  and  yield  to  its  inspiration.  Horace  Greeley  is 
nowhere  more  interesting  and  wise  as  a  guide  to  readers 
who  have  their  own  fortunes  to  make  than  in  his  RecolleC' 
tions  of  a  Bu»y  Life.  The  young  physicists  and  scientists, 
who  are  so  numerous  at  the  present  day,  can  find  no  read- 
ing which  will  please  and  reward  them  so  well  as  the  lives 
of  Franklin  and  Ferguson,  of  Davy  and  Faraday,  of  New- 
ton and  Dalton,  of  George  Wilson  and  Edward  Forbes. 
Artists  never  tire  of  reading  the  lives  of  the  unha})py  dc 
votees  of  their  craft,  like  Haydon,  and  the  more  fortunate, 
like  Reynolds  and  Turner,  Gainsborough  and  Wilkie, 
West  and  Allston.  Literary  men  of  all  classes  gather 
fresh  inspiration  and  instruction  from  the  biographies  of 
literary  men — an  ample  and  most  valuable  class  of  lives, 
to  which  we  shall  again  return. 

The  partial  review  which  we  have  taken  of  these  few 
classes  of  biographies  and  the  grounds  of  their  attractive- 
ness for  their  several  classes  of  readers,  enable  us  to  gain  a 
more  satisfactory  view  in  regard  to  biography  and  biogra- 
phical reading  in  general.  We  have  seen  that  biograi)liy 
is  attractive  for  the  incidents  which  it  records  and  the  sym- 
pathy which  it  arouses  with  prominent  actors.  Biogra- 
phy is  interesting  to  this  or  that  reader  just  so  far  as  he 


Cbap.  XIV.]     Biography  and  Biographical  Reading.       205 

cares  for  and  comprehends  the  incidents,  the  feelings,  or 
tlie  characters  which  liiography  describes.  The  lives  of, 
some  men  present  pictures  and  emotions  into  which  all, 
even  the  youngest  and  the  most  unreflecting,  easily  enter. 
In  all  cases,  however,  the  interest  must  depend  very  large- 
ly upon  the  skill  and  success  with  which  the  scenes 
and  characters  are  depicted.  If  the  incidents  are  beyond 
the  capacity  of  the  reader  to  comprehend,  through  defect 
of  age,  culture,  or  reflection  ;  if  the  feelings  and  character 
are  such  as  he  cannot  or  does  not  care  to  study  or  interpret 
— then  the  life  cannot  be  interesting ;  it  may  be  positively 
distasteful.  We  cannot  expect  the  life  of  a  metaphysician, 
a  philologist,  or  scientist,  to  be  intelligible  or  interesting  to 
a  child,  or  to  a  full-grown  man  whose  knowledge  and  cul- 
ture are  limited.  William  Wordsworth  was  known  to  his 
neighbors  only  as  a  kind-hearted  and  frugal  neighbor. 
Sir  Walter  Scott  was  esteemed  by  a  large  class  of  well-to- 
do 'acquaintances  not  as  the  magician  of  the  North,  but 
simply  as  the  SheriiF  who  gave  glorious  suppers  and  was 
great  in  his  talk  of  dogs  and  horses.  Burns  had  a  jolly 
set  of  associates,  who  cared  more  for  his  good  fellowship 
than  for  the  poetry  of  his  songs.  What  could  any  of  these 
friends  of  Wordsworth,  Scott,  or  Burns  know,  or  what 
should  they  care  for  the  events  or  the  characters  which 
make  the  record  of  their  lives  so  intensely  interesting  to 
the  student  of  literature  and  the  student  of  man  ?  That 
which  made  their  lives  so  famous,  and  the  story  of  them 
so  exciting  to  a  certain  class  of  readers,  lay  entirely  beyond 
the  range  of  their  comprehension  and  their  sympathy. 

While  then,  as  we  have  seen,  there  are  not  a  few  bio- 
graphies which  are  within  the  range  and  comprehension 
of  all  classes  of  readers,  there  are  many  others  which  are 
reserved  for  men  whose  culture  takes  a  special  direction, 
or  is  of  a  higher  order  than  is  accorded  to  the  many. 

The  first  of  these  which  we  name  are  those  which  are 


206  Books  and  Beading.  [Chap.  xrv. 

eminently  psychological,  i.  e.,  those  which  in^olve  an  ana- 
lysis and  record  of  the  inner  processes  or  growth  of  the 
soul.  There  are  not  a  few  biographies  of  which  the  chief 
interest  arises  from  and  turns  upon  the  changes  in  the  in- 
ner life  which  they  record.  The  external  incidents  of  the 
life  may  be  unexciting,  the  career  of  the  man  may  have 
been  very  uneventful  or  very  humble ;  but  the  record  of 
tha  progress  of  the  man,  of  his  varied  experiences  of  feel- 
ing, of  the  development  of  his  intellect,  and  the  changes 
in  his  opinions,  of  his  new  views  of  life,  his  strengthened 
faith,  his  refined  culture,  and  his  intellectual  or  moral 
achievements,  lend  an  indescribable  charm  to  the  narra- 
tive, and  gather  around  it  a  circle  of  excited  readers. 

It  is  obvious,  however,  that  no  man  can  be  interested  in 
such  a  biography  Avho  has  never  given  attention  to  the  pro- 
gress of  his  own  inner  life,  or  watched  tlie  several  steps  by 
which  such  progress  has  been  made.  Those  who  recognize 
the  improvement  of  one's  position  in  life  as  the  great  end 
of  living,  and  who  measure  progress  by  the  vulgar  tests  of 
gain  in  wealth  or  power,  cannot  be  expected  to  understand 
or  Care  for  the  inner  life  of  a  man  who  esteems  the  culture 
of  the  intellect,  the  refinement  of  the  tastes,  the  victory 
over  the  selfish  and  sensual  passions,  and  the  enlargement 
and  confirmation  of  all  right  and  noble  principles,  as  the 
most  elevated  ends  to  which  any  life  can  be  devoted. 
Those  who  never  look  within  but  always  look  without, 
must  find  the  biography  of  that  which  is  within  to  be 
necessarily  stupid  and  uninteresting.  But  those  who  care 
for  their  own  improvement  in  good  habits  and  noble 
achievements,  and  Avho  are  accustomed  closely  to  watch 
and  carefully  to  judge  of  their  progress  or  failure  in  these 
particulars,  may  naturally  be  expected  to  study  with  intense 
and  wakeful  interest  the  inner  record  of  any  noble  life,  ])ro- 
vided  the  story  be  told  with  requisite  skill.  Those  who 
include  moral  culture  and  religious  growth  in  their  concep- 


Chap.  XIV.]  Biography  and  Biographical  Blading,  207 . 

tion  of  true  progress,  will  follow  with  a  lively  interest  any- 
such  record  which  is  sincere,  provided  the  subject  of  it  be 
otherwise  so  gifted  as  to  attract  the  attention,  or 'the  story 
be  told  in  such  a  way  as  to  satisfy  a  pure  and  simple  taste. 
Even  the  .absence  of  any  special  gifts  of  nature  or  attain- 
ments of  culture  will  often  be  abundantly  compensated  by 
pure  aspirations  and  honest  endeavors.  The  record  of  an 
honest  and  unlettered  mind,  if  unskillfully  made,  like  the 
life  of  John  Woolman,  the  Quaker,  can  be  so  elevated  by 
simple  purity  of  heart,  or  like  the  life  of  John  Bunyan,  cnn 
be  so  irradiated  by  flashes  of  seraphic  fire,  as  successfully  to 
vindicate  the  essential  superiority  of  moral  and  religious 
greatness  over  greatness  of  every  other  sort.  But  no  gifts  of 
genius  in  the  subject  or  skill  of  portraiture  in  the  writer 
can  or  ought  to  compensate  for  the  absence  of  moral  earnest- 
ness in  a  professedly  ethical  biography,  or  for  the  presence 
of  the  debasing  alloy  of  Pharisaism  and  cant  in  a  profess- 
edly religious  life.  Hypocrisy  is  always  hollow;  Pharisa- 
ism and  affectation  are  invariably  offensive,  in  proportion 
to  the  elevation  of  the  ideals  to  which  they  pretend  to  rise, 
and  the  purity  of  the  saintliness  which  they  profess  to  imi- 
tate. Hence,  while  a  good  biography  of  a  truly  good  man 
is  the  best  and  often  the  most  inspiring  of  all  biographies, 
if  it  be  written  with  tolerable  skill ;  an  inflated,  overstrained 
and  laudatory  life  of  a  man  who  was  very  imperfectly  or 
defectively  good,  is  often  one  of  the  most  offensive  and 
depressing  of  books. 

The  temptation  to  error  in  the  form  of  over-doing  in  the 
quantity  and  quality  of  moral  and  religious  biography  is  ex- 
ceedingly strong.  The  religious  public  is  frightfully  inun- 
dated with  the  lives  of  persons  whose  lives  liud  better  not 
have  been  written,  or-  if  written,  would  better  have  been 
privately  printed.  It  is  the  dictate  of  friendship  to  magni- 
fy the  virtues  of  the  departed,  and  to  fail  to  notice  their  de- 
fects, when  we  look   at  either  through  the  tears  which  we 


208  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xiv. 

weep  at  their  graves ;  but  no  man  is,  for  such  a  reason, 
justified  iu  setting  forth  the  life  of  a  person  of  merely  com- 
monplace goodness,  simply  because  he  was  good.  While 
every  good  life  is  iar  more  eloquent  and  winning  in  the 
circle  which  it  illumines  than  any  book  can  be,  those  lives 
only  deserve  to  be  brought  before  the  public  in  a  book, 
which  had  characteristics  sufficiently  uncommon  to  make 
the  goodness  specially  attractive  when  it  is  portrayed. 

Second. — The  lives  which  we  have  called  psychological 
are  usually  most  successfully  written  in  greater  or  less  part 
by  the  persons  themselves  who  were  the  subjects  of  them — 
in  part  by  their  recorded  •conversations,  their  diaries  and 
letters,  or  wholly  in  formal  autobiographies.  Hence  the 
most  satisfactory  lives  of  really  superior  men  are  made  up 
of  their  reported  sayings,  their  private  journals,  and  ex- 
tracts from  their  correspondence,  set  in  a  framework  of  ex- 
planatory history.  BoswelVa  Life  of  Br.  Joltnson  is,  for 
two  reasons,  the  best  example  of  a  life  made  up  of  sayings 
and  conversations.  The  sayings  of  Johjison  were  well 
worth  reporting  for  their  intrinsic  interest  and  value,  or  for 
the  manner  in  which  they  were  expressed,  and  Johnson 
had  an  admiring  Boswcll  always  at  hand  to  report  them. 
It  has  of  late  become  much  the  fashion  to  make  up  the  lives 
of  significant  men  very  largely  from  their  journals  and 
their  letters.  Some  of  the  most  instructive  and  delightful 
biographies  of  modern  times  are  of  this  class ;  such  as  those 
of  Robert  Burns,  Charles  Lamb,  Robert  Southey,  John 
Sterling,  AValter  Scott,  John  Wilson,  Thomas  Chalmers, 
Samuel  Romilly,  John  Foster,  Dr.  Thomas  Arnold ;  of 
Charlotte  Bront<?,  J.  Blanco  White,  Thomas  Fowell  Bux- 
ton, Edward  Irving,  Richard  Whately,  B.  G.  Nie])uhr, 
Frederick  Perthes,  John  Keble,  Frederick  W.  Robertson, 
Henry  Crabb  Robinson,  Baron  Bunsen,  Theodore  Parker, 
Margaret  Fuller,  Horace  Mann,  and  Lyman  Beecher. 

In  all  these  instances  the  persons  named  were  more  or 


Chap.  XIV.]       Biography  and  Biographical  Heading.      209 

less  distinguished  for  public  and  literary  activity.  This  fact 
suggests  the  remark  that  the.  lives  of  this  class  of  persons  are 
generally  more  instructive  and  interesting  than  those  of  any 
other.  The  reason  certainly  cannot  be  that  their  intellects 
were  superior,  or  their  principles  were  more  elevated  ;  that 
their  feelings  and  tastes  were  more  refined,  or  their  influ- 
ence was  more  commanding  than  were  those  of  others 
whose  lives  remain  wholly  unwritten.  It  is  rather  that 
such  men  more  frequently  leave  behind  them  copious  mate- 
rials of  this  sort.  But  even  this  is  not  universally  the  case. 
It  is  only  men  who  write  easily,  and  of  such  men  only  here 
and  there  one  who  leaves  behind  him  a  journal  or  diary  in 
which  he  notes  events  as  they  occur,  or  records  his  views 
in  regard  to  them,  or  his  own  principles,  feelings,  and  aims. 
Many  journals  which  are  extended  and  copious  are  chiefly 
objective,  and  fail  to  express  the  individuality  of  the  man, 
and  to  manifest  his  inmost  feelings  and  the  springs  of  his 
character.  Very  many  really  able  and  communicative 
men  fail  to  write  letters  with  that  fullness  and  freedom 
which  should  satisfy  a  biographer.  But  when  all  these 
conditions"  are  present,  when  the  character  or  career  is 
worth  describing,  and  the  character  and  aims  are  copiously 
expressed  by  the  individual  himself,  then  we  have  the  con- 
ditions of  such  a  life  as  Lockhart's  Life  of  Scott,  or  Stan- 
ley's Life  of  Arnold,  or  the  Lives  of  B.  G.  Niebuhr  and ' 
Frederick  Perthes,  of  Thomas  Fowell  Buxton,  and  the 
Eev.  F.  W.  Robertson. 

The  lives  of  men  devoted  to  science  or  lettei'S  are  spe- 
cially interesting  for  anotiier  reason.     Such    men    reflect 
the  sentiments  of  their  times  more  completely  and  vividly 
than  men  of  any  other  class.     In  great  part  they  form  ^ 
these  sentiments,  or  are  the  central  points   around  v,jc'rt  of 
they  gather.     They    give  to   these   sentiments  a  fiture  will 
and  personal  interest,  and  cause  the   times  to  rg  of  Cellini 
live  before  the  eyes  of  the  reader.     They  are  These  auto- 
U 


210  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.XIV. 

symbolic  and  representative  men — men  who  either  origi- 
nate or  impersonate  some  striking  tendency  of  thouglit  or 
feeling.  At  all  events,  they  record  in  their  own  diaries 
and  letters  more  or  less  fully,  by  allusion  or  formal  dis- 
cussion, the  phases  of  thought  and  feeling  which  prevail 
in  the  community,  and  so  prcsc-rve  fresh  and  living  pic- 
tures of  transient  and  momentary  events.  These  pictures 
are  usually  colored  with  the  hues  of  their  own  pei'sonal 
feelings.  They  are  warm  with  love,  clouded  by  displea- 
sure, or  disturbed  by  anxiety  or  terror.  English  lit- 
erature has  of  late  been  greatly  enriched  with  many  bio- 
graphics  of  this  class,  of  the  choicest  description — biogra- 
phies interesting  from  the  excellence  of  the  character 
which  they  record,  from  the  variety  of  incidents  which 
they  narrate,  from  the  exciting  phases  of  prevailing 
thought  and  feeling  wliich  they  reflect,  and  from  the  in- 
sight which  they  open  into  the  inner  springs  and  motives 
of  the  persons  described. 

Autobiographies  have  for  many,  not  to  say  for  most  per- 
sons, a  peculiar  charm.     They  do  not  always  give  so  com- 
plete a  picture  of  the  inner  life  as  we  desire,  nor  do  they 
reveal  so  fully  what  was  characteristic  of  the  man  as  we 
hope  to  discover  when  we  begin  to  read  ;  but  they  almost 
uniformly  delight  the  student  of  human  nature,  by  their 
honest  and  naif  detail  of  what  we  are  more  or  less  curious 
to  know.     They  are  usually  brief,  almost  every  writer  of 
his  own  life  being  apparently  overcome  with  irresistible 
modesty  when  he  attempts  to  introduce  to  the  great  public 
his  comparatively  humble  self.     They  are  often  unfinished, 
the  writer  getting  on  very  comfortably  with  the  recollec- 
tions of  his  childhood  and  the  experiences  and' feelings  of 
FredO^'^y  ^^^y^)  '^"*'    growing    suVldonly  timid    as    he    is 
Henry  O  -^ook  in  the  face  the  follies,  and  perhaps  the  sins, 
Margaret'  ^^^^f  ^"^  "^t  liking  always  to  speak  so  freely 
In  all  whether  dead  or  living,  as  would  be  necessary 


Chap,  xtv.]  Biography  and  Biographical  Reading.  211 

should  he  speak  freely  of  himself  It  is  worthy  of  notice 
how  many  brief  sketches  of  this  sort  arc  suddenly  broken 
off,  as  if  the  writer  had  become  disgusted  with  thinking 
and  talking  about  himself,  and  had  left  for  his  children  a 
mere  fragment,  where  they  expected  and  longed  for  a  full 
and  detailed  narrative  of  his  entire  life.  We  have,  how- 
ever, a  few  autobiographies  that  are  tolerably  complete, 
and  they  are  all  in  tlicir  way  fraught  with  interest.  The 
life  of  Franklin  is  attractive  for  many  reasons ;  but  pre- 
eminently because  it  was  written  by  himself,  and  because 
he  tells  a  story  which  of  itself  is  fitted  to  interest  every 
poor  boy  who  is  beginning  life,  with  a  simplicity  and  di- 
rectness which  enlists  the  sympathies  and  holds  the  atten- 
tion of  every  reader.  No  book  has  been  more  popular  in 
our  country  than  this.  ISTone  has  exerted  a  more  powerful 
influence,  not  always  of  unmixed  good.  Tried  by  the 
more  elevated  standard  of  either  pagan  or  Christian  moral- 
ity, it  is  often  defective.  The  j)crsistent  self-seeking  which 
crops  out  so  offensively  now  and  then,  and  the  absence  of 
fiith  in  the  more  generous  sentiments,  as  well  as  the  sar- 
castic condescension  with  which  Frariklin  treats  revealed 
religion,  are  not  always  healthful.  They  have  lowered 
the  tone  and  weakened  the  faith  and  the  principles  of  not 
a  few.  But  with  all  these  abatements  its  attractions  are 
at  this  moment  as  fresh  as  at  the  first.  It  has  in  these 
days  the  additional  merit  of  giving  a  vivid  picture  of  sim- 
ple times  forever  gone  by,  as  well  as  of  unfolding  the  in- 
ner movements  of  a  very  unique  personality.  For  the 
same  reason  that  the  apprentice  and  clerk  read  Franklin 
with  special  interest,  the  scholar  never  tires  of  reading  Gib- 
son's Memoirs  of  my  own  Life  and  Writings,  or  the  brief 
autobiographies  of  Hume,  Voltaire,  and  Lord  Herbert  of 
Cherbury.  The  lovers  of  excitement  and  adventure  will 
return  again  and  again  to  the  autobiographies  of  Cellini, 
Vidocq,  J.  Wolfe  Tone,  and  Madame  du,  Barri.    These  auto- 


2]  2  Booica  and  Beading.  [Chap.  xiv» 

biographies,  with  many  others,  are  found  in  what  professes 
to  be  a  Collection  of  the  most  Interesting  and  Amusing  Lives 
ever  published,  written  by  the  parties  themselves.  London: 
1823-1832.  This  collection  certainly  contains  a  very  great 
variety  of  very  amusing  and  instructive  reading.  The 
fragments  of  autobiography  which  often  precede  the  more 
elaborate  lives  of  prominent  men  are  almost  invariably 
read  and  re-read  with  careful  attention. 

We  cannot  think  that  biography  is  especially  uninterest- 
ing and  unattractive.  On  the  other  hand,  we  believe  that 
tlie  want  of  interest  in  any  life  or  class  of  lives  must  arise 
from  one  or  more  of  three  prominent  causes — a  want  of 
capacity  to  comprehend  the  character  described — a  want  of 
sympathy  with  his  aims  and  principles,  or  some  defect  of 
skill  in  the  biographer.  AYhile,  as  Y/e  have  seen,  there  are 
some  biographies  which  interest  both  tlie  young  and  the 
old,  the  uncultured  and  the  refined,  there  is  a  very  great 
number  which,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  can  only  in- 
terest a  few — according  as  they  undei'stand  or  care  for  the 
style  of  man  which  the  life  describes.  It  is  therefore  im- 
possible to  furnish  aUy  but  the  most  general  rules  for  the 
selection  of  this  class  of  books — and  it  is,  for  this  reason, 
less  easy  to  select  any  list  which  may  be  called  the  best. 
What  arc  the  best  for  one  age,  or  one  degree  and  kind  of 
culture,  may  be  wholly  unsuited  for  another. 

There  is  no  class  of  reading  which  is  ethically  more 
profitable  than  this.  "When  I  am  sick  of  the  world  in 
church  and  state,  in  solitude  and  in  society,"  siiys  a  sharp 
and  stern  thinker,  "I  turn  for  relief  to  the  portraits  of  tAvo 
saintly  heroes  which  hang  in  my  library,  and  say  to  myself, 
These  two  were  honest  and  noble  men,  and  they  teach  me 
never  to  despair  of  mankind  or  of  myself."  In  like  man- 
ner there  is  nothing  so  quickening  and  elevating  to  the 
generous  and  high-minded  as  to  read  a  few  pages  in  the 
Diography  of  one  who  has  been  a  prince  among  men  for 


Chap.  XIV.]    Biography  and  Biographical  Readitig.        213 

greatness  and"  goodness  combined,  especially  if  his  life  and 
character  are  largely  interpreted  by  himself.  "No  young 
man  can  rise  from  the  perusal  of  such  lives  as  those  of  Bux- 
ton and  Arnold  without  feeling  his  mind  and  heart  made 
better,  and  his  best  resolves  invigorated."  "Horner  says 
of  the  life  of  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  that  it  filled  him  with 
enthusiasm;  and  of  Condorcet's  Eloge  of  Jlallcr,  '1  never 
rise  from  the  account  of  such  men  vvitliout  a  thrilling  pal- 
pitation about  me,  which  I  know  not  whether  I  should  call 
admiration,  ambition,  or  despair.' "  A  snatch  of  such  read- 
ing is  like  the  injection  of  fresh  and  generous  blood  into 
the  veins,  or  the  drinking  a  generous  and  refreshing  draught 
to  one  who  is  thirsty  and  faint,  or  the  breathing  copiously 
of  a  highly  oxygenated  atmosphere.  That  young  man  or 
young  lady  is  to  be  congratulated  who  has  his  or  her  favor- 
ite biographies  to  which  he  or  she  habitually  turns  and  re- 
turns— if,  indeed,  they  present  noble  ideals.  The  lives  of 
Dr.  Arnold  and  of  F.  W.  Robertson  have  done  more  for 
the  quickening  and  encouragement  of  Christian  culture  and 
of  Christian  nobleness  in  the  present  generation,  than  the . 
personal  influence  of  the  two  men  when  living — inspiring 
as  were  the  teaching  and  intercourse  of  the  one,  and  the 
preaching  and  conversation  of  the  other.  In  no  sense  is  it 
so  eminently  true,  that  the  good  which  men  do  lives  after 
them,  as  when  the  spirit  and  essence  of  their  lives  are  em- 
balmed in  a  worthy  biography. 

"More  sweet  than  odors  caught  by  him  who  sails 
Near  spicy  shores  of  Araby  the  blest, 
A  thousand  times  more  exquisitely  sweet, 
The  freights  of  holy  feeling  which  we  meet 
In  thoughtful  moments,  wafted  by  the  gales 
From  fields  where  good  men  walk  or  bowers  wherein  they  rest." 

But  how  is  it  with  the  evil  which  bad  men  do  ?  Is  not 
this  equally  powerful  to  ensnare  and  corrupt  ?  To  this  we 
reply,  such  evil  is  not  often  so  frankly  and  fully  exposed, 


214  Books  and  Heading.  [Chap.  xrv. 

and  tjcvpv  by  themselves;  and  herein  is  veiy \itrikingly  il- 
lustrct^'d  the  homage  which  vice  pays  to  virtue.  It  is  rare 
that  a  bad  man  confesses  to  the  world  in  his  letters  how 
bad  he  is,  unless  he  does  it  with  repentance  and  shame. 
It  is  rarer  even  that  a  man  writes  down  in  his  diary,  as  an 
eminent  scholar  was  once  in  the  habit  of  doing,  "  This  day 
read  the  Antigone  of  Sophocles,  after  which  I  was  desper- 
ately dnmk."  Or  if  a  man  occasionally  forgets  decency  in 
his  letters,  and  self-respect  in  his  diary,  it  is  rare  that  his 
biographer  will  spread  out  such  revolting  details  for  the 
perusal  of  the  public.  If  he  is  forced  to  allude  to  the  sins 
or  the  foibles  of  his  hero,  he  usually  endeavors  to  palliate 
and  excuse  them.  No  libertine  or  drunkard,  no  unbeliever 
in  duty  or  denier  of  God,  ever  shines  attractively  in  an 
honestly  written  life,  or  inspires  his  readers  with  a  desire 
to  be  like  him.  But  while  the  lives  of  bad  or  imperfect 
men  do  not  attract,  they  very  often  warn.  In  the  realm 
of  biography  the  saying  is  emphatically  fulfilled,  "  The 
name  of  the  wicked  shall  rot."  The  memorj'  of  the  wicked 
does  rot,  either  in  the  withering  neglect  of  succeeding  gen- 
erations, to  which  it  is  so  often  doomed,  or  in  the  putres- 
cent phosphorescence  at  whose  lurid  light  posterity  starts 
and  shudders. 

In  view  of  these  considerations,  we  advise  for  all  those 
who  have  leisure  and  opportunity  a  large  and  liberal  read- 
ing pf  biography.  We  advise  that  the  taste  for  this  de- 
scription of  reading  should  be  fostered.  If  fostered,  it  cer- 
tainly will  grow  more  active  and  intense.  The  study  of 
biography  is  the  study  of  man.  A  generous  familiarity 
with  the  lives  of  men  of  all  sorts  of  opinions  tends  to  lib- 
eralize the  feelings  and  \o  enlarge  the  understanding.  Its 
influence  in  this  regard  is  like  that  of  a  very  extended  and 
varied  acquaintanceship  with  living  men.  Nor  need  we 
fear  to  study  the  lives  or  to  converse  witli  the  charactci*s 
of  men  from  whom  we  differ  very  widely  in  opinions,  or 


Chap.  XIV.]     Biography  and  Blographioal  Beading.       215 

diverge  very  materially  in  our  sympathies.  If  our  own 
principles  are  fixed,  we  shall  find  sufficient  strength  and 
inspiration  from  the  lives  of  the  men  with  whom  we  agree 
in  opinions  and  character  to  enable  us  to  withstand,  as  far 
as  we  ought  to  desire,  any  counter-influence  from  the  lives 
of  those  with  whose  opinions  we  do  not  entirely  sympa- 
thize. No  man  of  liberal  culture  can  aiFord  to  be  without 
— no  such  person  ought  to  desire  to  be  wholly  without — 
the  liberalizing  influence  which  comes  from  a  study  of  the 
lives  of  men  of  the  greatest  variety  of  opinions  and  charac- 
ters. On  the  other  hand,  no  man  whose  opinions  are  fixed 
or  whose  principles  are  earnest  can  fail  to  have  his  favorite 
biographies,  his  lives  of  men  most  loved  and  honored,  to 
which  he  continually  resorts — it  may  be  to  enjoy  with 
them  a  few  moments'  converse  in  their  most  elevated 
moods,  or  perhaps  to  rise  by  their  aid  to  those  noble  posi- 
tions which  the  soul  is  more  competent  to  gain  for  an  hour 
than  to  keep  for  a  day. 

Of  biograpliical  reading  we  may  say,  that  the  man  who 
has  no  heroes  among  the  truly  noble  of  the  earth,  must  have 
either  a  sordid  or  a  conceited  spirit.  He  must  be  too  ig- 
noble to  admire  that  which  is  really  above  himself,  or 
must  be  too  satisfied  Avith  himself  to  care  to  concern  him- 
self with  the  characters  or  the  claims  of  others.  He  who 
reverences  and  admires  no  one  of  the  great  and  good  of 
other  times,  is  likely  to  reverence  and  admire  the  man  who 
is  least  worthy  of  honor  and  admiration,  and  that  is  him- 
self,— and  to  bring  to  his  altar  an  unshared  and  solitary 
worship. 

Two  rules  may  serve  in  the  selection  and  judgment  of 
biographies.  The  first  is,  "see  that  the  man  whose  lifb 
you  would  read  had  a  marked  and  distinctive  character." 
The  second  is,  "  see  that  this  character  be  set  forth  with 
truthfulness  and  skill."  A  man  with  small  individuality, 
either  of  gifts  or  of  goodness,  is  not  entitled  to  have  his 


216  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xiv. 

life  written,  and  certainly  has  no  claim  that  his  life  should 
be  read.  The  circumstance  that  he  held  a  high  position 
in  life,  or  attracted  honor  or  attention  from  his  wealth  or 
rank  or  office,  is  of  the  slightest  possible  significance  to 
those  who  come  after  him,  provided  there  was  notiiing  in 
his  genius,  his  industry,  or  his  goodness  which  entitles 
him  to  the  consideration  of  others.  Mere  goodness  which 
is  commonplace,  however  useful  and  honorable  in  the  liv- 
ing, cannot  shine  as  an  example  through  a  written  life,  un- 
less there  was  something  distinctive  enough  to  attract  the 
attention  and  to  impress  the  feelings  of  lookers-on.  The 
number  of  stupid  biographies  which  encumber  our  libra- 
ries, of  lords  and  generals  and  bishops,  and  of  clergymen 
and  physicians  and  lawyers  who,  were  simply  significant 
from  their  position,  is  something  frightful  to  contemplate. 
Now  and  then  they  fill  several  bulky  volumes.  They  ai'c 
glanced  at  by  a  limited  circle,  and  stand  upon  the  shelves 
of  our  libraries,  to  be  consulted  by  an  antiquarian  or  a 
genealogist,  and  this  is  all  the  service  which  they  render. 

It  is  not  enough,  however,  that  the  subject  of  the  life 
should  have  had  something  in  his  character  that  was  so 
distinctive  as  to  be  worth  recording.  The  life  should  be 
skilfully  set  forth  by  his  biographer.  The  power  of  seiz- 
ing the  individual  characteristics  by  nice  analysis  or  of 
interpreting  them  by  sagacious  generalizations,  does  not 
"  come  by  nature  "  to  all  biographers.  The  gift  of  select- 
ing from  conversations  and  correspondence  what  is  wortii 
preser\'ing  is  not  jiossessed — certainly  it  is  not  exercised, 
by  all.  To  narrate  with  method  and  clearness,  and  also 
with  spirit  and  life,  is  not  so  easy  to  a  writer  as  it  is  plea- 
sant to  the  reader. 

The  following  protest,  directed  against  the  indiscrimi- 
nate publication  of  an  author's  remains,  is  equally  appro- 
priate to  those  lumbering  biographies  in  which  little  wise 
selection  rules : — 


Chap,  XIV.]     BiogrcCphy  and  Biographical  Beading.      217 

"  Tho  imperfect  thing  or  thought, 

The  fervid  ycastincss  of  youth, 

The  dubious  doubt,  the  twilight  truth, 
Tho  work  that  for  the  passing  day  wad  wrought, 
The  schemes  that  came  to  naught, 

"  The  sketch  half-way  'twixt  verse  and  proset 

That  mocks  the  finished  picture  true, 

The  splinters  whence  tho  statue  grew. 
The  scatTolding  'neath  which  tho  palace  rose, 
The  vague,  abortive  throes, 

"And  crudities  of  joy  or  gloom  : — 

In  kind  oblivion  let  them  be  ! 

Nor  has  tho  dead  worse  foe  than  he 
Who  rakes  these  sweepings  of  the  artist's  room, 
And  piles  them  on  his  tomb." 

Whether  a  particular  biography  will  meet  the  condi" 
tions  prescribed  must  be  left,  in  most  cases,  to  the  judgment 
of  the  reader  himself.  To  attempt  to  make  a  selection  from 
the  very  rich  and  copious  library  of  works  of  this  class 
with  which  English  literature  abounds,  would  be  diffi- 
cult, if  not  impracticable,  within  our  limits.  We  must 
ask  the  reader  to  accept  in  its  place  the  classification 
which  we  have  made,  and  the  illustrative  examples  which 
we  have  cited  under  its  several  heads.  We  add  that  brief 
biographical  sketches  of  eminent  personages  may  be  found 
in  any  good  Encyclopedia. 

Some  of  these  have  been  prepared  with  great  care  by 
very  able  writers.  Biographical  Dictionaries  also  abound. 
Among  these  may  be  named  the  two  most  recently  issued, 
as  very  convenient  and  carefully  prepared.  Lippincott's 
Universal  Pronouncing  Dictionary  of  Biography  and  3Iy~ 
thology.  By  J.  Thomas.  2  vols,  and  A  Brief  Biographical 
Dictionary,  compiled  and  arranged  by  Rev.  Charles  Hole. 
Am.  ed.  by  William  A.  Wheeler.  The  last  gives  only  the 
names,  profession,  etc.,  with  dates  of  death  and  birth. 


CHAPTER  XY. 

NOVELS  AND  NOVEL-READING. 

From  History  and  Biography  to  Fiction  and  Poetry 
the  transition  is  natural  and  easy.  It  is  none  other  than 
from  true  to  what  Lord  Bacon  calls  "  feigned  history " 
— ^the  one  being  the  narration  of  events  which  have 
actually  occurred,  the  other  the  narration  of  events  which 
are  only  supposed  to  have  taken  place.  The  form  of  the  two 
is  the  same  ;  the  matter  is  different.  The  »tory  which  the 
novelist  and  poet  narrate  would  be  history  if  what  is  nar- 
rated had  actually  taken  place.  But  the  end  in  both  cases 
always  is  or  always  should  be  the  same — i.  e.,  the  com- 
munication of  truth  ;  not  always  what  we  call  real  truth 
in  the  sense  of  actual  or  literal  occurrences,  but  always  real 
truth  in  the  sense  of  those  relations  and  impressions  which 
are  real  in  that  import  which  is  most  comprehensive  and 
profound,  \yhcnever  the  imagination,  by  its  creations  of 
incidents  and  drapery,  can  assert  or  impress  truth  of  this 
kind  more  effectually  than  the  memory  by  its  transcripts 
from  reality,  then  is  it  at  liberty  to  do  so,  provided  it  does 
not  disturb  the  relations  of  truth  to  veracity.  There  are 
other  ends  for  which  the  truth  is  conveyed  than  the  ends  of 
instruction  and  science.  It  may  often  be  largely  for  ends 
of  anuisement ;  but  it  is  truth  nevertheless.  The  mirror  of 
the  imagination  must  always  reflect  nature,  though  with  en- 
larged and  altered  proportions.  The  criterion  of  every  good 
work  of  imagination  is  well  expressed  by  the  description  of 
the  Arcadia  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney  as  a  work  of  which  "  the 
invention  is  wholly  spun  out  of  the  phansie,  but  conforma- 
ble to  the  possibilitie  of  truth  in  all  particulars." 
218 


Chap.  XV.]  Novds  and  Novel-Reading.  219 

We  have  already  defended  works  of  imagination  from 
ignorant  and  prejudiced  objections.  We  have  also  sought 
to  show  that  the  highest  advantage  which  can  come  of 
literature  and  reading  of  all  kinds  is  the  service  which 
they  render  to  the  imagination,  as  they  enrich  it  with 
multiform  and  varied  images  of  beauty,  elevate  it  by  no- 
ble associations,  and  inspire  it  with  pure  emotions. 
We  shall  neither  repeat  nor  expand  our  argument  in  vin- 
dication of  Fiction  and  Poetry.  If  anything  needs  to  be 
added,  it  will  naturally  present  itself  in  our  suggestions 
concerning  the  wise  and  profitable  use  of  both. 

Prose  Fiction  is  of  comparatively  recent  growth  in  Eng- 
lish literature.  It  is  within  the  present  century  that  it 
has  attained  its  gigantic  proportions.  Our  grandmothers 
read  Masselas,  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  Sir  Charles 
Grandisoti,  The  Castle  of  Otranto,  and  a  few  other  tales. 
Some  of  our  grandfathers  allowed  themselves  now  and 
then  the  entertainment  of  Tom  Jones,  Humphrey  Clinher, 
and  Tristram  Shandy.  There  are  thousands  of  their 
grandchildren  who  would  be  puzzled  to  tell  what  novels 
they  liave  read,  or  to  recite  the  names  of  their  authors — 
both  are  so  numerous.  Two  novels  a  week  is  the  smallest 
number  that  is  produced  as  an  average  from  the  British 
press,  if  we  say  nothing  of  the  novels  translated  from  the 
French  and  German ;  and  the  names  of  all  the  leading 
popular  novelists  it  would  be  difficult  for  even  the  most 
desperate  and  practised  novel-reader  to  recount.  The  year 
1814,  in  which  Waverley  was  published,  ushered  in  the 
new  period  of  English,  and,  we  may  say,  of  modern  fic- 
tion, and  since  that  time  the  number  and  variety  of  novels 
has  been  steadily  increasing.  The  writing  of  Fiction  has 
been  widened  and  enriched  as  an  art,  and  the  reading  of 
Fiction  has  been  more  distinctly  recognized  and  worthily 
appreciated  as  a  means  of  culture  and  a  source  of  enjoy- 
ment.    Juvenile   Fiction    has  of  late   been   increased  to 


220  Books  and  Reading,  [Chap.  xv. 

well  nigh  enormous  dimensions.  The  writing  of  novels 
has  become  one  of  tiie  regular  professions ;  the  reading  of 
novels  is  the  chief  occupation  of  a  certain  class  of  persons 
who  are  exempt  from  the  ordinary  claims  of  business 
or  study,  and  even  the  criticism  of  novels  has  become  a 
specialty — almost  iis  much  as  the  criticism  of  art  or  music. 
The  world  of  Fiction  in  many  minds  overbears  and  out- 
weighs the  world  of  reality.  To  not  a  few,  the  creations 
of  the  imagination  are  more  interesting  and  absorbing  than 
those  of  real  life.  With  many  persons  the  successful  conduct 
of  a  plot  excites  more  interest  and  elicits  a  more  active 
criticism  than  the  direction  of  a  campaign,  and  the  de- 
velopment of  a  fictitious  character  is  watched  with  as  keen 
an  interest  as  the  life  and  fortunes  of  a  great  general  or  an 
eminent  statesman.  The  issue  of  a  tangled  story  is 
followed  more  anxiously  than  the  result  of  an  exciting 
criminal  trial,  or  a  closely  contested  political  canvass. 

Prof.  David  Masson,  in  his  very  able  and  readable 
work  on  British  Novelists,  divides  British  novels,  since 
Scott's  appearance  in  the  field,  into  thirteen  classes,  as  fol- 
lows :  1.  The  Novel  of  Scottish  I^ife  and  Manners;  2.  The 
Novel  of  Irish  Life  and  Manners ;  3.  The  Novel  of  Eng- 
lish Life  and  Manners ;  4.  The  Fashionable  Novel ;  5. 
The  Illustrious  Criminal  Novel ;  6.  The  Traveler's 
Novel  f  7.  The  Novel  of  American  Mannei-s  and  Society ; 
8.  The  Novel  of  Eastern  Manners  and  Society  ;  9  and  10. 
The  Military  and  Naval  Novel ;  IL  The  Novel  of  Super- 
natural Phantasy;  12.  The  Art  and  Culture  Novel;  13. 
The  Historical  Novel. 

This  classification  cannot  be  accepted  as  exhaustive,  but 
it  may  serve  to  impress  the  reader  with  the  variety  of  topics 
that  are  treated  in  modern  novels,  as  well  as  be  convenient 
for  reference  and  illustration.  A  broader  and  simpler 
classification  is  that  which  divides  all  novels  into  two 
groups,  according  as  they  are  more  or  less  conspicuously 


Ch^p.  XV. 1  Novels  and  Novel-Eehding.  221 

Novels  of  Incident  or  Novels  of  Character,  i.  e.,  according 
as  they  are  more  or  less  occupied  with  pictures  to  the  ob- 
jective phantasy,  or  as  they  present  strongly  marked  and 
strikingly  individualized  characters.  There  are  no  novels 
of  incident  in  which  various  personages  do  not  figure 
largely,  but  there  is  only  now  and  then  one  in  which  these 
personages  have  the  relief  and  reality  of  living  men  and 
women,  with  a  distinct  personal  existence  and  a  strongly 
marked  individuality.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are  no 
novels  of  character  in  which  there  is  not  more  or  less  of  a 
story  or  plot.  But  the  interest  in  all  novels  which  deserve 
to  be  so-called,  turns  invariably  upon  the  illustration  or  the 
development  of  character.  Novels  of  incident  are  especially 
fitted  for  the  young,  because  their  tastes  are  eminently  ob- 
jective. They  like  an  exciting  and  picturesque  story,  no 
matter  how  grotesque  and  improbable  it  may  be.  Persons 
are  as  real  and  objective  to  them  as  incidents  and  events. 
It  is  what  these  do  and  suffer  for  which  their  readers  care, 
not  what  they  are,  or  how  their  characters  arc  expanded  or 
made  known.  With  the  analysis  of  their  motives,  their 
inner  conflicts  of  feeling,  and  the  developments  or  changes 
of  their  character,  their  readers  have  little  concern.  The 
excitement  of  the  story  is  the  chief  attraction,  and  if  the 
story  is  exciting,  they  neither  care  nor  inquire  whether  the 
events  are  probable  or  possible,  or  whether  the  characters 
are  natural  or  true.  Nor  are  they  fastidious  in  respect  to 
either  imagery  or  style.  Indeed,  provided  the  imagery  is 
bold,  they  do  not  care  if  it  be  coarse  and  highly-colored ; 
and  provided  the  language  be  strong  and  passionate,  they 
do  not  mind  if  it  be  declamatory  and  raving.  The  taste  of 
young  people  in  respect  to  novels  is  very  like  their  taste 
for  food.  They  do  not  totally  reject  the  more  delicate 
fruits  and  dishes,,  but  they  swallow  them  without  discrimi- 
nation, and  without  appreciating  their  exquisite  flavor. 
But  the  stronger  and  coarser  edibles  they  devour  not  only 


222  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xv. 

•with  no  ofFence,  but  often  with  an  astonishing  relish,  as 
unripe  apples,  squash-like  melons,  rank  soups,  and  ranker 
meats.  They  are  not  insensible  to  Ilohinson  Crusoe  and 
the  Pilgrinis  Progress,  and  the  manifold  delicatesses  of 
modern  fiction ;  but  they  do  not  see  the  difference  between 
these  and  the  Pirate's  Own  Book,  Jack  Sheppard,  Beadle's 
Dime  Novels,  and  the  sensational  stories  which  inflate  the 
English  language  till  it  almost  bursts  with  the  exj>ansion, 
and  whose  heroes  scream  out  all  the  possible  TRrieties  of 
hysterical  passion.  There  is  nothing  which  is  more 
amazing  to  a  refined  and  cultured  mother  than  the  favorite 
stories  of  her  obstreperous  boy.  But  all  this  is  in  the 
course  of  nature,  and  will  be  outgrown  in  the  progress  of 
time.  There  is  hope  that  the  boy  will  grow  up  to  his 
mother's  tastes,  if  her  tastes  in  reading  are  cultured  and  re- 
fined. But  what  hope  is  there  for  him  if  her  favorite 
novels  are,  in  point  of  culture,  not  higher  than  his  coai*se 
and  sensational  stories  ?  As  long  as  the  savage  sees  lines 
and  shades  of  beauty  in  the  tattooing  or  the  war-paint  that 
makes  the  face  hideous,  and  the  wild  African  grins  with 
ccstacy  at  the  flaunting  colors  which  shame  tlie  noon,  so  long 
will  sensation  novels  of  the  vulgar  sort  be  read  with  eager- 
ness, and  be  written,  lauded,  and  sold.  It  is  well  to  re- 
member that  the  acquisition  of  wealth  does  not  necessarily 
bring  refinement  in  the  intellectual  tastes,  and  that  much 
which  is  called  culture  of  the  sui)erficial  sort,  and  which 
enables  a  person  to  be  sclf-pusse&scd  and  at  ease  in  society, 
does  not  of  course  involve  culture  of  the  imagination  or  the 
intellectnal  judgment.  Fashionable  people,  and  people 
who  aspire  to  give  tone  to  society,  may  delight  in  low  and 
vulgar  novels.  Even  pereons  who  are  morally  pure  and 
rigiit-hejirted  may  want  the  capacity  to  discriminate  be- 
tween what  is  high  and  low  toned  in  fiction.  It  now  and 
then  happens  that  a  family  rices  suddenly  to  wealth  from  ab- 
ject poverty.     Its  members  pass  in  a  mouth  from  rags  to 


Chap.  XV.]  Novels  and  Novel-Reading.  223 

satins,  and  from  squalor  to  diamonds,  and  assume  the  airs 
of  their  new  position  with  what  success  they  may.  Usually, 
however,  some  defect  in  their  new  appointments  betrays 
that  their  culture  is  not  complete.  Sometimes  tlieir  shoes  or 
their  lace  or  their  jewelry  reveal  their  essential  vulgarity ; 
sometimes  it  is  the  low  and  vulgar  character  of  the  fiction 
in  which  they  delight.  In  cases  that  are  not  so  extreme 
there  are  people  whose  aristocracy  is  unquestioned,  and  whose 
manners  have  the  unmistakable  confidence  that  bespeaks 
a  well-established  social  position,  who  by  the  novels  which 
they  habitually  read,  betray  the  essential  vulgarity  of  their 
intellectual  tastes,  and  the  low  grade  of  their  aesthetic  cul- 
ture. Few  things  are  more  properly  offensive  to  the  travel- 
er than  to  see  a  second  or  third  rate  novel  in  the  hands  of 
a  well-dressed  and  well-mannered  lady,  or  an  intelligent 
and  otherwise  well-cultured  youth.  Few  indications  are 
more  depressing  than  to  enter  a  house  in  which  wealth  and 
comfort  abound,  in  which  taste  and  refinement  are  every- 
where manifest,  and  perhaps  a  high  tone  of  moral  and  reli- 
gious feeling  is  maintained,  and  yet  to  find  that  the  library 
of  the  family  is  made  up  of  a  score  or  two  of  third-rate 
novels,  with  perhaps  a  few  books  of  devotion. 

If  we  suppose  the  taste  for  different  kinds  of  fiction  to 
be  developed  in  a  normal  way  from  youth  to  age,  from 
rudeness  to  culture,  the  novel  of  mere  incident  will 
gradually  give  way  to  the  novel  of  character.  The  per- 
sonage with  a  name  and  nothing  more,  who  figures  in  so 
many  stories  for  children,  and  in  so  many  sensational 
novels  for  grown  people,  will  be  required  to  give  some  in- 
dications of  individual  personality.  The  reader  will  learn 
to  look  for  men,  and  men  of  definite  and  unmistakable  in- 
dividuality, in  the  leading  characters  of  any  novel  which 
he  tolerates  or  delights  in.  He  will  by  and  by  learn  to  no- 
tice that  character  cannot  be  made  known  with  skill  or  suc- 
cess, by  mere  description,  but  must  be  expressed  in  the  words 


224  Boohs  and  Reading,  [Chap.  xv. 

or  deeds  of  the  personages  portrayed — that  a  long-winded 
and  elaborate  setting  forth  of  what  sort  of  a  man  this  or 
that  person  is,  attended  perhaps  Avith  a  commentary  upon 
the  characteristics  of  his  class,  is  not  nearly  so  satisfactory 
to  the  reader  as  the  brief  or  pithy  sayings  which  are  put 
into  his  mouth,  or  his  characteristic  actions  when  brought 
into  a  critical  position.  The  second  step  of  progress  in  the 
taste  for  fiction  may  be  said  to  be  attained  when  the  reader 
has  learned  to  prefer  the  novel  of  character  to  the  novel 
of  incident,  and  can  distinguish  the  one  from  the  other. 

The  third  stage  is  reached  when  the  reader  learns  to 
study  and  analyze  the  characters  which  he  finds  in  fiction ; 
when  they  not  only  enlist  his  sympathies  by  assuming  dis- 
tinct and  personal  being,  but  he  can  study  them  in  their 
motives,  trace  out  their  springs  and  discover  their  lead- 
ing traits,  and  illustrate  them  to  his  own  judgment  by  ex- 
amples from  real  life.  This  interest  is  greatly  heightened 
if  the  characters  are  complex,  perplexing,  and  apparently 
contradictory  ;  and  if  the  real  secret  is  veiled  and  with- 
held till  the  development  of  the  plot  is  complete.  Novels 
of  character  must  of  course  differ  greatly  in  the  style  of 
character  which  they  furnish,  and  their  adaptation  to  the 
power  of  the  reader  to  comprehend  them,  or  his  capacity 
to  enjoy  them.  The  perplexities  of  a  hero  or  heroine  may 
arise  from  speculative  studies  or  religious  difficulties,  or 
from  social  inequalities,  or  a  morbid  mood  induced  by  a 
-phildhood  of  wealth  and  luxury,  or  by  some  reverse  of  for- 
tune. Whatever  may  be  the  occasion,  if  the  kind  of  hu- 
man being  is  not  such  as  should  be  looked  for  in  the 
ordinary  experience  of  human  life,  and  can  only  be  devel- 
oped from  an  exceptional  nature  or  a  very  rare  conjunc- 
tion of  circumstances,  the  power  to  understand  the  charac- 
ter will  )>e  possessed  by  few.  Or  again,  if  the  principal 
interest  in  the  hero  arises  out  of  the  peculiarities  of  his  pro- 
feasion,  (as  of  a  musician  or  artist,  like  Charles  Auchester,) 


«HAP.  XV.]  Novels  and  Novd-Reading.  225 

the  idiosyncrasies  of  his  nature  can  only  be  fully  appre- 
ciated by  a  few.  Then,  if  the  habits  of  the  novelist  be 
scientific  or  philosophical,  and  he  wishes  to  exhibit  a  hero 
occupied  with  his  specialty,  or  exemplifying  certain  limited 
habits,  or  if  he  sets  forth  the  character  by  technical  or 
scholastic  terminology,  or  a  professional  or  philosophical 
dialect,  he  can  expect  no  more  than  a  limited  class  of 
readers.  All  the  so-called  novels  of  purpose  or,  as  they 
might  be  termed,  propagandist  or  doctrinal  novels,  wheth- 
er they  be  Christian  or  Infidel,  Romanist  or  Neological, 
High  Church  or  Evangelical,  Episcopal  or  Presbyterian, 
Royalist  or  Republican,  Conservative  or  Radical,  Slavery 
or  Anti-slavery^,  Poor  Law  or  Anti-poor  Law,  Protection- 
ist or  Free  Trade,  so  far  as  they  involve  any  properly 
theoretic  discussions,  as  distinguished  from  pictures  of 
personal  or  social  life  or  public  and  individual  tendencies, 
— Ciin  strongly  attract  those  readers  only  who  have  some 
special  knowledge  of  or  interest  in  the  subjects  discussed, 
whatever  may  be  the  interest  of  the  plot  or  the  individu- 
ality of  the  characters.  In  general,  novels  that  arc  in  any 
way  specialized,  whether  because  the  topics  handled  are 
necessarily  limited,  or  because  the  mode  of  handling  is  not 
adapted  to  the  habits  and  tastes  of  men  of  ordinary  cul- 
ture, must  necessarily  be  reserved  for  a  limited  class  of 
readers. 

No  man  in  his  senses  would  aspire  to  read  all  the  no- 
vels, or  even  the  majority  of  the  novels  that  are  written 
and  published.  It  is  within  the  limits  of  possibility  that 
a  person  who  should  restrict  himself  to  this  kind  of  read- 
ing, and  should  devote  to  it  say  six  or  eight  hours  a  day, 
and  allow  himself  no  respite  for  sickness  or  holidays, 
might,  in  a  certain  sense,  read  the  most  of  the  novels  that 
are  now  published  in  the  English  language.  But  who 
would  desire  to  do  this  ?  Who  would  not  refuse  the  task 

with  disgust  and  revulsion  if  it  should  be  imposed  upon 
15 


226  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xv. 

him  ?  Most  persons  would  rebel  for  liigher  reasons  than 
because  the  occupation  would  be  a  task.  The  task  itself 
would  be  most  ungrateful.  To  be  forced  to  occupy  one's 
mind  with  feeble  or  extravagant  portraitures  of  scenes 
and  incidents,  Avith  inadequate  or  distorted  delineations  of 
character,  with  false  and  repulsive  conceptions  of  honor, 
duty,  and  life ;  to  give  one's  self  up  for  the  waking 
Iiours  of  every  day  to  the  control  of  the  depraved  or  frivo- 
lous taste  or  the  prurient  imagination  of  now  a  weak  and 
then  a  strong  but  corrupt  nature,  should  be  esteemed  an 
intolerable  bondage.  No  man  with  a  moderate  endowment 
of  human  feeling  or  manly  spirit  could  endure  it  long. 
There  is  a  show  of  reason  why  the  reader  of  history  should 
teel  obliged  to  read  many  histories  which  he  Avould  j)refer 
to  leave  unread,  or  why  a  philosopher  or  critic  must  read 
many  weak  and  illogical  treatises  that  give  very  poor  re- 
turns of  thought.  But  a  poor  novel  is  very  poor  and  un- 
satisfying. It  is  not  only  so  weak  as  to  sicken,  but  it  is 
60  offensive  as  to  disgust  the  man  who  has  any  positive 
tastes  which  he  cherishes,  or  who  sets  much  value  upon 
his  time.  We  might  add  in  the  case  of  many,  by  any 
man  who  has  any  regard  for  his  reputation ;  for  the  man 
or  tlic  woman  who  systematically  dawdles  away  his  or  her 
time  over  a  succession  of  third  or  fourth  rate  novels,  weak 
in  imagination  and  doubtful  in  morality,  deserves  a  very 
low  place  in  the  estimate  of  people  whose  good  opinion  is 
worth  regarding.  There  is  no  description  of  filth  that  is 
60  filthy  or  so  tenacious  as  that  which  comes  from  handling 
an  equivocal  or  obscene  novel.  A  white-gloved  hand  is 
for  ever  soiled  by  a  smutch  that  cannot  be  drawn  off  Avith 
the  glove,  if  seen  to  hold  a  low-lived  and  trashy  talc,  such 
as  many  a  fasliionable  miss  and  pretentious  coxcomb  are 
known  to  handle. 

If  we  cannot  and  would  not  read  all  the  novels  that  are 
published,  we  should  read  the  best.     What  the  best  are,  it 


Chap.  XV.]  Novds  and  Novel-Reading,  227 

is  not  always  easy  to  decide.  The  novel  which  is  the  best 
for  the  child  is  not  the  best  for  tlie  youth ;  the  best  for  the 
youth  is  not  the  best  for  the  man ;  the  best  for  one  man  is 
not  the  best  for  another.  The  child  and  the  youth,  as  we 
have  seen,  delight  in  the  objective  novel — the  novel  of  in- 
cident— above  the  novel  of  character.  By  the  same  rule, 
the  man  of  introverted  and  reflective  tastes  not  only  prefers 
the  novel  of  character,  but  requires  that  the  characters 
delineated  should  themselves  be  of  the  speculative  and  in- 
troverted cast,  and  that  the  plot  and  dialogue  should  turn 
upon  some  recondite  theme,  or  illustrate  some  important 
speculative  truth.  The  tastes  of  men  in  respect  to  the 
novels  which  they  prefer  are  as  various  as  their  tastes  in 
dress,  in  manners,  and  in  companions.  The  only  limits 
under  which  this  rule  can  be  safely  and  wisely  applied,  are 
that  every  man  should  have  tastes  which  he  can  safely  fol- 
low, and  that  he  should  know  Avhat  his  tastes  actually  are ; 
and  that,  having  tastes  that  are  not  evil,  and  knowing 
them  well,  he  should  have  the  courage  to  consult  and  follow 
them,  despite  the  rigors  of  conventionality  and  fashion. 

Every  man  has  his  moods  as  well  as  his  tastes.  The 
novel  that  is  fitted  for  one  mood  is  not  suited  for  another. 
If  simple  amusement  or  relaxation  is  required,  a  novel  may 
be  just  the  boolc  for  a  man  who  would  not  care  to  read  it 
at  a  time  when  his  aims  were  higher  and  more  severe.  If 
instruction  is  required,  the  novel  may  be  tolerated  which 
would  not  satisfy  if  it  were  required  to  amuse,  elevate,  or 
enrich  the  imagination.  A  nov^el  may  be  good  for  travel- 
ing, which  it  is  scarcely  worth  while  for  a  busy  or  earnest 
person  to  read  at  home.  A  reader  of  independent  and 
liberal  spirit  would  also  carefully  avoid  giving  himself 
up  to  the  control  of  any  single  novelist.  "While  evciy 
reader  ought,  on  the  one  hand  to  be  select  in  his  reading  of 
fiction,  he  should  shun  being  so  select  as  to  limit  his  read- 
ing to  a  single  writer,  even  though  by  general  consent  the 


228  Books  and  Heading.  [Chap.  xv. 

writer  should  be  pronounced  the  best.  At  least  it  should 
be  required  that  the  author  be  the  best  for  hira,  by  his  fit- 
ness to  his  individual  habits  and  tastes,,  and  even  to  his 
prevailing  moods.  The  reasons  for  this  rule  are  two.  No 
class  of  writers,  except  perhaps  the  poet,  can  diffuse  himself 
so  completely  into  his  writings  as  the  novelist,  and  can  do 
it  so  insensibly  to  the  reader.  The  reader  may  seem  to 
find  nothing  but  a  description  of  scenery,  or  a  picture  of 
domestic  life,  or  a  delineation  of  a  person,  or  the  record  of 
conversations  or  the  development  of  a  plot.  All  these  ele- 
ments may  be  so  skillfully  woven  together,  and  may  stand 
out  so  prominently  from  the  canvass,  as  to  give  the  impres- 
sion of  objective  reality.  The  whole  may  be  finished  with 
the  careful  minuteness  of  Gerard  Dow,  or  Avith  the  defiant 
boldness  of  Rubens,  and  still  the  picture,  whether  of  nature, 
man,  or  human  life,  will  be  the  picture  as  seen  by  the  nov- 
elist's eyes  and  reflected  in  the  novelist's  mind,  and  it  is 
through  his  eyes  and  his  mind  that  we  must  look  at  it,  if 
we  see  it  at  all.  Or  he  seems  to  open  to  our  inspection  the 
workings  of  a  highly  individualized  character  in  extraordi- 
nary circumstances  of  trial  and  j>erplexity,  like  Morton  in 
Old  Mortality,  or  Becky  Sharp  in  Vanity  Fair,  or  Oliver 
Twist  as  described  by  Dickens,  or  Jane  Eyre  by  Charlotte 
Bronte,  or  Mary  Barton  by  Mrs.  Gaskell,  cr  Dinah  in 
Adam  Bedc,  or  the  j^reacher  of  Salem  Chapel  by  INIrs. 
Olyphant.  All  that  we  seem  at  first  view  to  see  is  the  in- 
dividual skillfully  described  ;  at  the  second  view  we  dis- 
cern, perhaps,  that  this  seeming  individual  is  also  a  rejire- 
sentative  human  being,  combined  and  created  by  the  dex- 
terous hand  of  the  artist,  working  after  the  nice  observation 
of  the  artist's  eye.  It  is  not  often  that  we  take  a  third  ob- 
servation, and  discern  that  it  is  some  representative  man, 
not  merely  as  discerned  by  the  dispassionate  eye,  but  as 
judged  by  the  principles  and  colored  by  the  feelings,  and 
distorted,   it   may   be,   by   the   prejudices   of  the   writer. 


Chap.  XV.]  Novds  and  Novel-Reading,  229 

Thackeray,  and  Dickens,  and  Miss  Brontd,  and  George 
Eliot  have  each  a  private  practical  philosophy  of  their  own, 
even  though  it  is  unconsciously  held,  according  to  which 
they  must  construct  all  the  types  of  human  nature  which 
they  draw.  It  would  have  been  morally  impossible  that 
either  should  conceive  or  portray  the  characters  depicted  by 
the  other.  This  practical  philosophy  of  life,  this  creed  con- 
cerning the  ends  of  human  excellence,  and  the  ideal  of 
human  perfection,  is  that  which  sweetens  or  sours  many 
superior  novels,  and  causes  them  to  emit  the  aroma  of 
health  and  life  or  the  poison  of  disease  and  death. 

Again,  second — no  class  of  writers  exercises  so  complete 
control  over  their  readers  as  novelists  do.  This  control 
reaches  to  their  opinions  and  prejudices,  if  it  does  not  in- 
sensibly control  and  reshape  their  entire  philosophy  of 
duty  and  of  life.  The  fascination  which  they  exercise  be- 
comes of  itself  a  spell.  No  enchantment  is  so  entire  and 
delightful  as  that  with  which  they  invest  the  story  which 
they  recite.  It  is  a  very  glamour  which  they  pour  not 
only  over  the  scenes  which  they  depict,  but  over  the  senses 
of  the  beholder.  With  this  enchantment  and  fascination 
come  the  ready  and  even  the  forward  acceptance  of  their 
practical  philosophy,  and  even  of  their  accidental  preju- 
dices. A  favorite  novelist  becomes,  for  the  time  being, 
often  more  to  his  enamored  and  enchanted  reader  than 
preacher,  teacher,  or  friend,  and  indeed  than  the  whole 
world  besides,  casting  a  spell  over  his  judgments,  moulding 
his  principles,  forming  his  associations,  and  recasting  his 
prejudices.  The  entranced  and  admiring  reader  runs  to  his 
favorite  when  he  can  snatch  an  hour  from  labor,  society, 
or  sleep.  He  broods  over  his  scenes  and  characters  when 
alone,  he  quotes  from  him  as  often  as  he  dare,  he  cites  pro- 
verbs and  favorite  phrases  from  his  leading  personages. 
He  even  aspires  to  be  familiar  with  his  slang  and  his  cant. 
He  warms  with  incensed  ardor  if  his  reputation  is  attacked. 


230  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xv. 

He  defends  liim  if  he  is  criticised  or  unfavorably  judged. 
He  is  impatient  if  another  is  preferred  to  him.  The  parti- 
san of  Thackeray  and  Dickens  is  always  ready  to  couch  a 
lance  for  his  favorite. 

Indeed  we  may  go  further,  and  say  that  the  devoted 
reader  of  a  favorite  novelist  often  becomes  for  the  time  an 
unconscious  imitator  or  a  passive  reflex  of  his  author.  Like 
the  chameleon,  he  takes  the  color  of  the  bough  and  leaf 
from  which  he  feeds.  He  is  more  likely  to  absorb  and  re- 
produce his  defects  than  his  excellences.  The  admiring  and 
passionate  devotee  of  Dickens  is  in  danger  of  copying  his 
broad  caricature,  his  not  very  elevated  or  elevating  slang, 
and  the  free  and  easy  swing  of  the  society  in  which  Mr. 
Dickons  delights.  On  the  other  hand,  the  intellectual  and 
high-toned  devotee  of  Tiiackcrny  is  likely  to  be  not  a  little 
satirical,  suspicious,  and  dissatisfied ;  to  afTect  the  nil  admi- 
rari  and  the  air  of  one  who  is  compelled  to  live  in  a  world 
of  which  he  has  already  seen  the  hollowncss,  and  for  which 
he  is  a  little  too  good.  The  admiring  students  of  George 
Eliot  take  a  pensive  view  of  our  human  life,  sympathize 
hopelessly  with  its  sorrows  and  its  tragedies,  and  above  all, 
with  its  moral  enigmas,  seeing  for  it  no  redemption  and  no 
hope.  "They  are  as  sad  as  night  only  for  wantonness." 
Their  burden  is,  the  times  are  out  of  joint — oh  cursed  spite, 
that  we  were  ever  born  to  set  them  riglit  Charles  Kings- 
ley's  readers,  on  the  other  hand,  are  ready  to  set  everything 
right  by  the  force  of  muscle  and  j)liK'k,  of  bravado  and  faith. 
The  admirer  of  the  witty  O.  W.  Holmes  is  crisp,  Voltairish, 
and  satirical.  The  devotee  of  Hawthorne  is  unrelenting 
in  certain  moody  prejudices,  Epicurean  in  his  tastes  and  asj)i- 
rations,  and  dreamy  and  uncertain  in  his  theory  of  this  life 
and  the  next.  The  admirer  of  Mrs.  Stowe  is  generous, 
rash,  one-sided  and  positive,  and  given  to  a  variety  of  over- 
doing. So  complete  a  subjection  to  a  single  novelist,  even 
for  a  limited  time,  is  not  desirable,  because  its  tendency  is 


Chap.  XV.]  Novels  and  Novel-Reading.  231 

to  make  us  one-sided  and  unnatural.  For  the  same  reason 
we  should  not  confine  oui'sclvcs  entirely  to  current  and 
contemporary  novels.  Strong  as  is  the  temptation  to  do  this, 
by  reason  of  the  greater  freshness  of  the  novel  for  our  own 
times,  this  temptation  should  sometimes  be  overcome,  if  for 
no  other  reason  than  to  give  the  reader  a  wide  range  of 
vision,  and  to  bring  him  back  to  his  favorites  of  the  passing 
hour  with  a  fresher  eye  and  a  less  partial  judgment. 

Nor  should  novels  constitute  our  sole  reading.  The 
temptation  is  strong  to  make  them  so,  especially  with  young 
persons,  and  those  who  ai'e  responsible  only  to  themselves 
for  the  use  or  abuse  of  their  time.  It  is  not  easy  to  turn  to 
a  history  or  scientific  essay  when  an  attractive  novel  is  lying 
by  its  side,  particularly  for  one  to  whom  novel-reading  is 
new.  There  is  no  fascination  connected  with  reading  to  be 
compared  with  that  experienced  in  youth  from  the  first  few 
novels.  The  spell-bound  reader  goon  discovers,  however, 
that  this  appetite,  like  that  for  confectionery  and  other  sweets, 
is  the  soonest  cloyed,  and  that  if  pampered  too  long  it  en- 
feebles the  appetite  for  all  other  food.  The  reader  of  novels 
only,  especially  if  he  reads  many,  becomes  very  soon  an  intel- 
lectual voluptuary,  \\\i\\  feeble  judgment,  a  vague  memory, 
and  an  incessant  craving  for  some  new  excitement.  It  is 
rare  that  a  reader  of  this  class  studies  the  novels  which  he 
seems  to  read.  He  knows  and  cares  little  for  the  novel  of 
^  character  as  contrasted  with  the  novel  of  incident.  He  reads 
for  the  story  as  he  says,  and  it  usually  happens  that  the 
sensational  and  extravagant,  the  piquant  and  equivocal 
stories  are  those  which  please  him  best.  Exclusive  and 
excessive  novel  reading  is  to  the  mind  as  a  kind  of  intel- 
lectual opium  eating,  in  its  stimulant  effects  upon  the  phan- 
tasy and  its'  stupifying  and  bewildering  influence  on  the 
judgment.  An  inveterate  novel-reader  speedily  becomes  a 
literary  roue,  and  this  is  possible  at  a  very  early  period  of 
life.     It  now  and  then  happens  that  a  youth  of  seventeen 


232  Books  and  Beading.  [Chap.  xv. 

becomes  almost  an  intellectual  idiot  or  an  effeminate  weak- 
ling by  living  exclusively  upon  the  enfeebling  swash  or 
the  poisoned  stimulants  that  are  sold  so  readily  under  the 
title  of  tales  and  novels.  An  apprenticeship  at  a  reform 
school  in  literature,  with  a  spare  diet  of  statistics,  and  a  hard 
bed  of  mathematical  problems,  and  the  simple  beverage  of 
plain  narrative,  is  much  needed  for  the  recovery  of  such 
inane  and  half-demented  mortals. 

Why,  then,  it  may  be  asked,  should  we  read  novels  at 
all  ?  Why  not  set  them  aside  altogether,  especially  as  the 
quantity  of  light  literature  of  other  descriptions  is  so  great, 
and  the  quality  of  it  is  constantly  improving  ?  These  ques- 
tions are  certainly  fair  questions,  and  merit  answers  as  ex- 
plicit and  as  fair.  We  liave  to  answer  first :  The  reading 
of  fiction  furnishes  a  kind  of  amusement .  and  relaxation 
which  no  other  reading  can  give.  There  can  be  no  ques- 
tion that  this  description  of  "  feigned  history  scrveth 
and  conferreth  to  delectation."  No  intellectual  enjoyment 
is  so  delightful  as  this.  No  withdrawment  from  one's 
customary  occupations  and  associations  is  so  complete  as 
that  which  a  good  novel  effects ;  no  breaking  up  of  the 
cares  and  the  sorrows,  of  the  weariness  and  the  fears  of  the 
ordinary  life  is  so  entire  as  that  which  an  absorption  in 
its  scenes  and  an  interest  in  its  personages  so  easily  accom- 
plishes. That  this  indulgence  is  attended  with  special  dan- 
gers and  peculiar  temptations  we  cannot  deny ;  but  tliat  the 
amusement  and  relaxation  are  innocent  and  desirable, 
every  rational  man  will  acknowledge.  Many  of  the 
bravest  workers  for  God  and  man  have  found  this  sort  of 
relaxation  to  be  the  most  complete,  and  have  used  it  with 
the  happiest  results.  Why  it  should  be  so  is  not  diffi- 
cult to  discern.  Do  we  delight  in  a  vacant  hmir  to  survey 
a  quiet  nook,  a  placid  river,  a  luxuriant  valley,  or  an  am- 
ple and  varied  panorama?  We  open  a  novel,  and  one  scene 
after  another  rises  before  the  mental  vision  more  rapidly 


Chap.  XV.]  Novels  and  Novel-Reading.  233 

and  in  quicker  succession  than  any  which  nature  can  pre- 
sent. Does  it  rest  the  brain  because  it  amuses  the  mind 
to  gaze  upon  a  crowded  street,  and  to  watch  the  motley 
and  brilliant  succession  of  the  passers-by?  But  over  the  pic- 
tured page  of  animated  fiction,  one  group  follows  after 
another  of  men  and  women,  of  children  and  youth,  in 
country  and  town,  crushing  and  jostling  in  the  alleys  and 
thoroughfares  of  the  city,  lounging  upon  the  open  lawn,  or 
sauntering  along  the  shaded  lanes  of  the  country.  Tourna- 
ments, races,  hunting  courses,  fishing  parties,  rushing 
cavalry,  marching  infantry,  gangs  of  robbers,  stealthy  as- 
sassins, a  cavalcade  of  knights,  a  tribe  of  Bedouins,  a  gang 
of  gipsies,  a  band  of  pirates,  pass  and  repass  in  swift  suc- 
cession before  the  mind's  eye.  Does  it  refresh  because  it 
excites  us  in  a  new  direction  to  tell  and  hear  the  news  of 
our  neighbors,  or  of  the  last  fire,  shipwreck,  or  battle? 
But  it  refreshes  us  more,  because  it  excites  us  less  painful- 
ly, to  follow  the  fortunes  of  a  few  imaginary  beings  with 
whom  the  novelist  acquaints  us  completely,  and  in  w^hom 
he  contrives  to  interest  us  profoundly, — as  they  pass  from 
sunlight  to  shade,  and  from  shade  to  sunlight,  till,  in  our 
anxious  or  our  curious  sympathy  for  them,  we  lose  for  the 
hour  all  thought  and  care  even  for  our  personal  joys  and 
sorrows. 

The  novel  instructs  as  well  as  amuses  the  reader,  and  it 
instructs  him  by  methods  and  in  directions  in  which  no 
other  reading  can.  It  instructs  him  in  History,  as  has 
already  been  explained  in  our  remarks  upon  the  historical 
novel.  It  instructs  him  in  respect  to  scenery  as  no  traveler 
ever  does,  and  as  few  travelers  would  dare  to  attempt. 
The  pictures  of  the  oriental  plain,  jungle,  and  forest ;  of 
the  Irish  bog,  pass,  and  shieling ;  of  the  Scottish  heath, 
loch,  and  manse,  and  of  the  English  lawn,  cottage,  and 
rectory ;  of  hedge-rows  and  oak  vistas,  of  clumps  of  yew 
and  game  preserves ;  of  the  American  prairie,  forest,  and 


234  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xv. 

the  settler's  clearing  and  log  cabin  ;  of  the  Southern  negro 
quarters,  rich  fields,  and  hunting  grounds,  which  we  find 
in  countless  novels,  are  invaluable  as  substitutes  for  views 
of  those  scenes  which  we  cannot  receive  by  the  eye,  and  as 
reminders  of  those  which  we  have  actually  seen.  No  man 
with  a  moderate  amount  of  curiosity  can  well  afford  to  dis- 
pense with  such  pictures.  The  cultivated  person  whose 
curiosity  has  not  yet  been  awakened,  may  need,  most  of 
all,  that  this  curiosity  should  be  excited  in  ways  which, 
and  for  ends  in  respect  to  which,  there  can  be  no  substitute 
for  the  novel. 

The  novel  instructs  in  respect  to  the  domestic  and  social 
life  of  other  countries,  or  grades  of  life  in  our  own  country 
to  which  few  readers  can  have  direct  access,  and  fewer,  if 
they  have  such  access,  can  observe  and  judge  of  fully. 
The  reader  of  Scott  and  Wilson,  of  Hogg  and  Macdonald, 
learns  to  understand  and  to  sympathize  with  Scottish  life 
and  manners,  and  to  appreciate  the  Scottish  character,  as 
he  could  not  possibly  do  in  any  other  method.  In  a 
similar  way  LeVer  and  Lover  have  made  it  possible  for  us 
to  understand  Ireland  and  the  Irish,  in  their  blunders  and 
their  genius;  their  frugality  and  their  improvidence  ;  their 
wit  and  their  folly;  their  beauty  and  their  squalor,  on 
manifold  more  sides  of  their  character  than  any  personal 
observation  or  reports  of  fact  or  history  could  qualify  us 
to  know  and  love  them.  Bulwer  and  George  Eliot,  Mrs. 
Gaskell  and  Trollope,  Dickens  and  Thackeray,  enable  the 
foreigner  to  understand  somewhat  of  the  secret  of  English 
society,  with  its  singular  contradictions  of  conventionality 
and  independence,  of  suspicion  and  confidence,  of  bland- 
ness  and  gruffness.  They  even  introduce  us  to  the  sacred 
privacy  of  the  English  home,  without  the  doubtful  ex- 
periment of  letters  of  introduction,  or  the  more  questionable 
impudence  of  thrusting  open  the  door.  Does  not  every 
English  reader  of  the  tales  of  Miss  Bremer  and  Miss 


Chap.  XV.]  Novels  and  Novel-Reading.  235 

Carlin  feel  that  he  owes  to  them  obligations  of  gratitude 
which  he  cannot  repay  for  the  fresh  and  delightful  pic- 
tures of  Swedish  manners  and  Swedish  life  with  which 
their  talcs  abound?  Have  not  Freytag,  Tautphoeus,  and 
Auerbach  and  Spielhagen,  done  the  same  for  German 
life  ?  and  have  not  Balzac,  Paul  de  Kock,  George  Sand, 
Eugene  Sue,  Alexander  Dumas,  and  Victor  Hugo  taught 
their  readers  more  of  the  worst  side  of  life  in  Paris  and 
in  France  than  it  is  desirable  or  healthful  for  many  of  these 
readers  to  learn?  Of  Italian  life  and  manners,  Manzoni 
and  Ruffini  and  T.  A.  Trollope  give  us  delightful  pictures. 
That  the  wise  reading  of  novels  is  fitted  to  enlarge  our 
acquaintance  tcith  human  nature,  and  in  this  way  to  give 
the  most  valuable  instruction,  is  eufficiently  obvious.  It 
invites,  and  often  compels  us  to  enter  into  the  thoughts 
and  feelings,  and  to  share  in  the  experiences  of  men  and 
women  most  remote  from  our  personal  observation  or  our 
possible  acquaintance.  It  opens  to  us  the  heart  of  the 
skeptic  in  his  torments  of  doubt  and  his  grojjings  after  cer- 
tainty. It  makes  us  watch  the  tempted  man  as  he  main- 
tains his  doubtful  step  along  the  narrow  and  swaying  bridge 
that  overhangs  the  fearful  gulf,  or  to  recoil  with  horror  as 
he  makes  the  desperate  plunge.  It  opens  to  our  inspection 
the  inner  being  of  the  condemned.  It  enables  us  to  over- 
hear the  fearful  soliloquies  of  the  cell,  and  the  procession 
that  leads  to  the  scaffold.  In  manifold  methods  does  it 
enlarge  our  knowledge,  enlighten  our  personal  experience, 
and  widen  and  make  yielding  our  sympathies.  In  short, 
it  lets  us  into  a  wide  range  of  human  experiences,  under  the 
greatest  possible  variety  of  conditions,  of  excitements,  and 
of  issues.  It  places  at  our  service  the  results  of  the  sharp 
observation,  the  subtle  analysis,  the  earnest  sympathies,  and 
the  skilful  interpretations  of  many  of  the  most  gifted  stu- 
dents of  humanity,  who  present  the  products  of  their  obser- 
vation and  their  skill  in  a  form  best  fitted  to  attract  the 


236  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xv. 

attention  of  the  unreflecting,  and  to  excite  the  curiosity  of 
the  listless — the  form  of  an  exciting  and  artistic  tale.  If 
the  representations  are  often  too  extreme  and  too  highly 
colored  to  correspond  to  the  observations  and  experiences 
of  fact,  and  if  it  may  reasonably  be  objected  that  for  this 
reason  they  are  actually  misleading  as  representations  of 
human  nature  as  it  is,  it  cannot  be  charged  that  they  mis- 
represent the  ideal  possibilities  of  human  nature ;  that  they 
either  overpaint  human  nature  as  it  is  desirable  it  should 
be  in  its  good,  or  degrade  its  evil  lower  than  it  is  conceiva- 
ble it  should  sink.  If  either  happen,  it  does  not  follow 
that  the  most  important  results  of  substantial  truths  are  not 
attained.  If  stronger  impressions  concerning  the  evil  or 
the  good  of  human  nature  are  thereby  achieved  than  could 
possibly  be  reached  in  any  other  Avay,  then  the  mind  is 
taught  the  most  essential  truth,  while  the  imagination  is 
enriched  in  respect  to  the  range,  and  variety  of  conceivable 
or  ideal  human  experiences. 

The  objection  may  sometimes  hold  good  against  novels 
of  incident,  that  they  excite  mischievous  expectations  of  ex- 
traordinary turns  of  fortune,  and  beget,  even  in  sober  and 
sensible  people,  a  romantic  and  dreamy  habit  of  mind  in 
respect  to  the  chances  of  success  in  life,  and  the  conditions 
by  which  it  is  to  be  achieved.  Nothing  too  severe  can  be 
said  against  the  mischievous  influence  of  a  certain  class  of 
so-called  romantic  stories  upon  uncertain,  shuffling,  indo- 
lent, and  broodiijg  sort  of  people,  with  feeble  energies  and 
strong  self-indulgence.  It  is  not  such  novels  that  we  com- 
mend, but  novels  of  character.  A  similar  objection  might 
be  urged  against  the  influence  of  novels  of  the  latter  class 
— that  they  encourage  extravagant  views  of  what  a  person 
may  become  in  character,  or  of  what  he  may  demand  of  his 
associates  or  expect  from  his  fellow-men.  If  such  a  ten- 
dency should  now  and  then  be  observed,  we  may  set  off* 
against  it  the  very  desirable  and  elevating  influence  in  the 


Chap,  XV.]  Novels  and  Novel-Reading.  237 

other  direction,  which  comes  from  elevated  ideals  of  char- 
acter in  ourselves  and  in  others.  J  f  our  conceptions  of 
character  be  correct  as  to  their  principles  or  elements,  th^ 
cannot  be  too  elevated  or  noble  in  the  scale  after  which 
they  are  adjusted.  They  should  be  human  and  practical 
and  ethical  and  Christian,  but  they  cannot  be  too  unselfish 
or  aspiring.  The  sordid,  the  mean,  and  the  prosaic;  the 
selfish,  the  trickish,  and  the  bullying ;  the  uncultivated,  the 
sensual,  and  the  vile,  are  already  so  rampant  and  unblush- 
ing in  our  religion,  our  politics,  our  literature,  and  our 
society,  that  there  is  little  danger  from  excess  in  literature 
in  the  direction  of  the  nobly  romantic  and  the  ideal.  What- 
ever fiction  can  contribute  to  quicken  and  elevate  the  ima- 
gination, so  far  as  its  ideals  and  estimates  of  character  are 
concerned,  is  only  actual  and  positive  gain  to  the  sum  of 
good  influences;  and  it  is  a  gain  of  a  kind  which  cannot 
easily  be  spared. 

It  is  not  a  trivial  advantage  of  the  novel  reading  of  our 
day  that  it  suggests  elevated  and  quickening  topics  for  con- 
versation. This  advantage  is  not  a  trivial  one,  when  we 
reflect  that  conversation  too  readily  degenerates  into  gos- 
siping personalities  or  unmeaning  twaddle  about  the 
weather,  or  the  last  insignificant  occurrence  that  happens 
to  interest  any  person  present.  For  young  persons  espe- 
cially it  is  of  no  little  service  to  have  topics  at  hand  that 
are  fruitful  of  thought,  that  awaken  .a  warm  interest  and 
call  out  positive  opinions.  The  last  new  novel  is  sug- 
gestive in  all  these  directions.  It  stimulates  to  the  analysis 
of  its  characters  and  the  criticism  of  its  plot,  and  calls  out 
likings  and  dislikings,  which  the  holders  of  either  are  for- 
ward to  assert  and  defend.  These  opinions,  and  the  rea- 
sons by  which  they  are  defended,  invariably  turn  upon  the 
observations  of  actual  life,  characters  and  manner  which  the 
parties  may  have  made,  and  in  this  way  stimulate  to  ac- 
tivity of  thought  and  independence  of  judgment.     Even  if 


238  Books  and  Heading,  [Chap.  xv. 

the  novel  is  second-rate,  the  incidents  unnatural,  and  the 
characters  extravagant,  the  effect  of  discussing  these  is 
usually  good.  Novel-reading  is  a  powerful  educating  in- 
fluence in  whatever  aspect  it  is  regarded,  and  though  it 
may  often  educate  to  evil,  its  power  to  stimulate  from  bar- 
renness and  frivolity  should  never  be  overlooked. 

Having  already  answered  the  two  questions,  what  novels 
we  should  read,  and  why,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  inquire 
how  we  should  read  them.  AVhat  we  have  already  said 
upon  the  general  topic  of  how  we  ought  to  read  all  books, 
will  apply  with  pre-eminent  propriety  to  the  reading  of 
novels,  because  there  is  no  description  of  reading  in  which 
there  is  greater  exposure  to  the  worst  of  habits.  Coleridge 
has  pungently  enough  described  these  habits :  "  As  to  the 
devotees  of  circulating  libraries,  I  dare  not  compliment 
their  pass-time,  or  rather  kill-tune,  with  the  name  of  read- 
ing.  Call  it  rather  a  sort  of  beggarly  day-dreaming,  dur- 
injr  which  the  mind  of  the  dreamer  furnishes  for  itself 
nothing  but  laziness  and  a  little  mawkish  sensibility,  while 
the  whole  materiel  and  imagery  of  the  dose  is  supplied  ab 
extra  by  a  sort  of  mental  camera  obscura  manufactured  at 
the  printing-office,  which  pro  tempore  fixes,  reflects,  and 
transmits  the  moving  phantasms  of  one's  own  delirium,  so 
as  to  people  the  barrenness  of  an  hundred  other  brains 
afllicted  with  the  same  trance  or  suspension  of  all  common 
sense  and  all  definite  purpose.  We  should,  therefore,  trans- 
fer this  species  of  amusement  ....  from  the  genus  rend- 
ing to  that  comprehensive  class  characterized  by  the  ])ower 
of  contrary,  yet  coexisting,  propensities  of  human  nature, 
namely,  indulgence  of  sloth  and  hatred  of  vacancy.  In 
addition  to  novels  and  tales  of  chivalry  in  prose  or  rhyme 
(by  which  last  I  mean  neither  rhythm  nor  metro)  this  genus 
comprises  as  its  species,  gaming,  swinging  or  swaying  on  a 
chain  or  gate,  sj)itting  over  a  bridge,  smoking,  snufF-t^iking, 
t^te-i-tete  quarrels  after  dinner  between  husband  and  wife, 


Chap.  XV.]  Novels  and  Novel-Reading.  239 

conning,  word  by  word,  all  the  advertisements  of  the  Daily 
Advertiser  in  a  public-house  on  a  rainy  day,  etc.,  etc." 

These  remarks  are  pointed  and  explicit  as  to  how  not  to 
read  novels^  and  the  reader  can  very  easily  infer  by  the  rule 
of  contraries  how  to  re-ad  them. 

They  also  forcibly  suggest  the  inquiries — "  What  is  the 
method  after  which  children  read  the  majority  of  the  books 
called  tales  and  stories,  which  make  up  so  large  a  share  of 
juvenile  and  Sunday-school  libraries?  What  is  the  aver- 
age value  of  the  great  mass  of  'juvenile '  books  which  are 
prepared  by  the  score  eveiy  month  to  quicken  the  intellect 
and  elevate  the  imaginations  of  the  rising  generation? 
Are  not  the  most  of  these  books  eminently  juvenile  in  the 
greenness  and  crudeness  of  their  authors  as  well  as  of  their 
work  ?" 


CHAPTER  Xyi. 

POETEY   AND   POETS. 

What  is  Poetry  ?  We  ask  this  question,  because  in 
order  wisely  to  select  the  poetry  which  Ave  read,  as  well  qb 
to  read  with  intelligence  and  syrajDathy  that  which  we  se- 
lect, we  need  to  know  what  poetry  is ;  so  far  at  least  as  to 
be  able  to  discriminate  the  real  from  the  factitious  and  the 
counterfeit.  But  to  answer  our  question  we  do  not  need  to 
construct  or  defend  an  elaborate  theory  of  poetry.  JS^or  need 
we  study  and  criticise  the  several  theories  which  have  been 
proposed,  from  Aristotle  and  Horace,  down  to  Matthew 
Arnold  and  F.  W.  Newman.  We  may  be  satisfied  to  ad- 
here to  the  definition  of  Lord  Bacon,  that  poetry  is  a  species 
of  feigned  histoi'y.  Every  descri})tion  of  poctiy  may  M-ith 
no  great  violence  be  brought  under  this  comprehonsive 
definition.  Narrative  poetry  of  every  sort,  from  the  stately 
epic  of  the  ancients  down  to  the  familiar  tale  of  the  modern 
bard — from  the  Iliad  to  Aurora  Leigh — will  easily  be 
classed  as  history.  This  feigned  history  must  indeed  also 
have  a  human  interest.  Every  descnptive  poem,  even  if  it 
set  forth  some  objective  scene,  supposes  this  human  interest; 
even  though  it  only  concerns  the  single  human  being  who 
is  the  looker-on,  and  out  of  whose  experience  have  sprung 
the  feelings  with  whicb  he  colors,  and  tlie  ends  for  which 
he  constructs  the  picture,  of  which  nature  furnishes  the  ma- 
terials. Beneath  every  sonnet  of  Wordsworth,  and  every 
description  of  Browning,  there  lies  a  chapter  of  human  liis- 
tory.  The  Lyric  in  every  one  of  its  va^-ied  forms,  from  the 
loftiest  ode  to  the  most  trivial  love-song,  is  the  breaking 
240 


Chap.  XVI.]  Poetry  and  Poets.  241 

forth  in  verse — suited  to  song — of  the  feelings  of  some 
human  soul,  under  the  circumstances  of  some  real  or  sup- 
posed personal  history ;  and  these  must  be  known  or  sup- 
plied by  the  reader,  to  enable  him  to  understand  and  appre- 
ciate the  ode  or  the  song.  The  meditative  and  the  moraliz- 
ing, the  didactic  and  the  satirical,  cease  to  be  poetry  and 
become  prosaic  and  heavy,  the  moment  that  there  falls  out 
of  either  some  form  of  human  life,  enacted  or  conceived. 

Every  drama  is  eminently  a  story — a  story  acted  and  not 
alone  described ;  dramatica  poesis  ist  veluti  speetabilis — 
a  stor}'-  in  which  the  parties  are  made  to  live  again  before 
the  eyes  of  the  reader  or  hearer,  to  speak  their  own  thoughts 
and  to  pour  forth  their  impassioned  utterances,  as  they 
seem  to  be  freshly  excited  by  the  deeds  and  words  that  are 
produced  upon  the  pictured  stage,  or  upon  the  written  page 
which  the  imagination  dresses  up  as  a  mimic  theatre. 

But  not  every  feigned  history  is  poetry,  else  every  novel 
were  a  poem.  Poetry  is  feigned  history  in  verse.  The 
feigned  story  whether  it  is  narrated  or  suggested,  must  be 
told  in  verse ;  i.  e.,  in  measured  and  rhythmical  language. 
Y/e  are  accustomed  to  call  verse  an  artificial  structure ;  in 
contrast  with  prose,  as  more  natural  and  obvious.  If  it 
has  become  artificial  in  our  less  excited  and  more  critical 
modes  of  existence  and  action,  it  certainly  was  not  so  origi- 
nally, in  the  earliest  times,  when  the  most  literal  trutli  was 
framed  into  a  poem  under  the  excitement  of  love  and  admi- 
ration, and  was  set  forth  with  measure  and  cadence  from 
the  lips  of  sages  and  bards.  Then  the  prophet,  the  law- 
giver, and  the  historian  were  also  poets.  Admonitions  to 
duty,  and  rules  of  living,  and  the  records  of  the  past,  were 
all  committed  to  some  rude  or  measured  form  of  verse,  out 
of  which  now  and  then  the  flashing  war-song  would  gleam 
as  the  lightning,  or  along  which  the  pean  would  thunder 
in  triumph.     Whether  tliis  preference  of  verse  in  the  earlier 

days  is  owing  to  the  predominance  of  imagination  and  feel- . 
16 


242  Books  and  Beading.  [Chap.  xvi. 

iiig,  or  to  tlie  greater  convenience  which  verse  affords  to 
tlie  memory  when  its  effect  depends  not  upon  what  is  written 
for  the  eye,  but  upon  what  is  heard  by  the  ear,  the  fact  is 
unquestioned,  that  the  earliest  compositions  take  the  form 
of  verse.  AVe  know  also  that  to  the  individual  man  in  the 
dawn  of  intelligence,  verse  is  far  more  pleasing  and  easy  to 
be  retained  than  prose.  The  ditty  with  its  readily  recur- 
ring refrain,  the  song  that  suits  the  simplest  air,  are  forms  of 
composition  which  are  most  pleasing  to  infancy.  Whether 
it  be  more  natural  in  the  earlier  ages  to  compose  in  verse 
than  in  prose,  we  will  not  inquire.  AVhether  with  the 
poetical  modes  of  conception  which  are  natural  at  that 
period,  in  the  forms  of  affluent  imagery  and  elevated  feeling, 
there  springs  up  for  man's  use  a  fit  medium  of  expression 
in  "  the  gift  of  numerous  verse,"  we  need  not  ask.  We  are 
forced  to  confess  that  this  gift  is  not  universal  when  literary 
culture  is  refined  and  matured.  As,  in  this  condition,  man 
finds  it  less  easy  to  Avrite  in  verse  than  in  prose,  so  he  re- 
serves for  this  form  of  writing  his  choicest  thoughts  and  his 
best  emotions.  The  constraints  of  verse  also  compel  a  selec- 
tion in  the  words  employed  and  a  special  nicety  in  their 
arrangement  and  combinations.  Hence  he  is  insensibly  led 
to  require  as  fit  for  verse,  sentiments  that  are  rare — usually 
that  are  rare  for  their  nobleness — and  emotions  that  are 
uncommon  for  their  elevation,  strength,  and  purity.  So 
far  Matthew  Arnold  is  in  the  right  when  he  insists  that 
there  must  be  something  of  the  grand  style  in  every  com- 
position that  is  truly  poetic.  This  leads  the  reader  or 
critic  almost  instinctively  to  reject  the  trivial  and  the  low, 
or  even  the  familiar  and  tlje  homely,  as  beneath  the  dignity 
of  poetry.  It  was  an  exaggeration  of  this  feeling  that  led 
80  many  of  the  poets  of  the  last  century  to  adopt  a  peculiar 
stilted  and  factitious  poetic  dialect  as  alone  suited  to  the 
elevated  uses  of  poetic  writing.  This  diction  became  by 
its  traditionary  character  not  only  empty  of  meaning,  but 


Chap.  XVI.]  Poetry  and  Pods.  243 

was  followed  by  the  double  evil  of  repressing  that  freshness 
and  individuality  of  language  which  are  indispensable  to 
poetic  power  and  freedom,  and  of  appearing  as  a  substitute 
for  thoughts  and  feelings  which  were  in  no  sense  poetic. 
Against  this  Thomson  and  Cowper  entered  their  practical 
protest,  by  refusing  to  conform  to  the  rule  and  example  of 
their  times,  and  Wordsworth  set  up  the  theory  of  poetic 
diction  which  gave  so  much  offence  and  aroused  so  warm  a 
controversy.  Moreover,  the  oft-recurring  pauses  and  turns 
of  verse  do  not  admit  protracted  or  complicated  arguments, 
refined  abstractions,  or  a  philosophical  terminology.  Hence 
there  grows  up  the  sentiment  and  the  demand  that  every- 
thing whicji  is  fit  for  verse  should  be  simple  in  phrase, 
should  be  lively  with  imageiy,  and  be  readily  followed  by 
the  common  mind. 

For  this  reason  offence  is  taken  at  metaphysical  discus- 
sions, protracted  reflections,  labored  conversations,  and 
even  elaborate  descriptions,  as  unsuited  to  poetry.  Hence 
the  reasonableness  of  those  criticisms  and  complaints  which 
are  often  unreasonably  urged  against  Milton,  Wordsworth, 
Tennyson,  and  the  Brownings,  that  they  are  abstract, 
metapliysical,  over-refined,  and  difficult  to  read. 

Simplicity,  however,  is  neither  silliness  nor  common- 
place ;  it  does  not  exclude  the  extremest  subtlety  of  thought 
nor  the  most  delicate  refinement  of  feeling,  but  its  rule 
demands  that  the  poetic  diction  should  be  direct,  brief,  and 
easily  followed.  In  this  way,  out  of  the  very  exigencies 
which  the  use  of  verse  prescribes,  do  we  derive  the  usually- 
accepted  characteristics  of  poetic  thought  and  expression. 
These  characteristics  we  often  find  abundant  and  conspicu- 
ous in  prose-writing.  In  such  cases  we  say  truly,  and 
with  an  intelligible  meaning,  this  or  that  passage  is  highly 
poetic.  We  call  Jeremy  Taylor  the  Shakspeare  of  Divi- 
nity. AVe  say  that  Milton  in  his  prose  writings  surpasses 
himself  as  a  poet.     We  are  amazed  at   the   bewildering 


244  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xvl 

beauty  of  many  a  magnificent  passage  in  Coleridge's  prose. 
"We  say  of  this  or  that  person  of  our  acquaintance,  he  has 
a  highly  poetic  mind,  simply  because  his  thoughts  and  emo- 
tions are  intensely  ideal  and  imaginative,  even  though 
he  may  never  have  written  a  line  of  verse,  or  even  may  be 
unpractised  in  any  form  of  written  composition. 

We  ought  also  to  add,  as  pertaining  solely  to  the  matter 
of  poetry,  that  it  deals  chiefly  with  those  thoughts  and 
sentiments  which  are  universal  to  the  race,  as  distinguished 
from  those  which  are  in  any  sense  limited  or  conventional. 
The  poet  speaks  to  the  heart  of  man  as  man  ;  and  he  must, 
therefore,  speak  from  his  own  heart  as  that  of  a  man  ;  ut- 
tering only  those  thoughts  and  sentiments  to  which  all 
other  men  will  respond,  and  leaving  unexpressed  much 
that  is  peculiar  to  his  race,  his  time,  his  civilization,  or 
even  his  religion,  except  so  far  as  this  answers  to  what  is 
common  to  the  race,  the  time,  the  civilization,  and  the  re- 
ligion jof  another,  and  thus  addresses  the  intelligence  and 
enlists  the  sympathies  of  all  human  kind.  The  truth  with 
which  the  poet  deals  is  common  and  universal,  in  the  sense 
of  being  accessible  to  all  men  who  have  attained  that  de- 
gree of  culture  and  of  thought  which  is  supposed  in  the 
use  of  the  simple  diction  that  poetry  requires.  It  is,  more- 
over, truth  in  an  attractive  form, — that  truth  which  is 
worthy  to  be  draped  with  the  "  singing  robes "  of  poesy. 
Pleasure  as  truly  as  reflection,  delight  as  truly  as  impres- 
sion, are  ends  which  poetry  may  never  lose  sight  of.  The 
measured  cadences  which  soothe  or  excite  the  ear,  the  flow- 
ing diction  which  is  rip])lcd  with  sparkling  imagery,  are 
all  unsuited  to  any  truth  but  that  which  pleases  by  its  in- 
telligibleness,  its  weight,  its  liveliness,  and  its  emotional 
attractions.  "  Poetry,"  says  Wordsworth,  "  is  the  breath  and 
finer  spirit  of  all  knowledge;  it  is  the  impassioned  expres- 
sion which  is  in  the  countenance  of  all  science;  emphati- 
cally may  it  be  said  of  the  poet,  as  Shakspeare  hath  said 


Chap.  XVI.]  Poetry  and  Poets,  245 

of  man,  '  he  looks  before  and  after.'  He  is  the  rock  of 
defence  for  human  nature  ;  an  upholder  and  preserver,  car- 
rying everywhere  with  him  relationship  and  love.  In 
spite  of  difference  of  soil  and  climate,  of  language  and  man- 
ners, of  laws  and  customs ;  in  spite  of  things  silently  gone 
out  of  mind,  and  things  violently  destroyed,  the  poet  binds 
together  by  passion  and  knowledge  the  vast  empire  of  hu- 
man society,  as  it  is  spread  over  the  whole  earth  and  over 
all  time."  "  Poetry,"  says  Matthew  Arnold,  in  memora- 
ble words,  "  is  simply  the  most  beautiful,  impressive  and 
widely  efPective  mode  of  saying  things  and  hence  its  im- 
portance." 

But  Avhile  the  poet  must  invariably  be  universal  in  the 
spheres  of  thought  and  feeling,  he  is  none  the  less  emphati- 
cally an  individual  in  both.  Indeed  his  power  and  genius 
depend  entirely  upon  that  intense  individuality,  which  can 
set  forth  that  which  commands  universal  intelligence  and 
sympathy  in  the  form  and  coloring  of  individualized 
thoughts  and  emotions.  Not  only  must  the  local  coloring 
of  his  own  race,  nationality,  and  civilization  tinge  every 
stroke  of  his  pencil,  but  the  private  thoughts  and  feelings 
of  his  individual  self  must  impress  themselves  upon  every 
sentiment  which  he  utters  and  should  give  direction  to  every 
turn  of  his  language  and  imagery.  Homer  is  a  Greek  in 
every  fibre  of  his  being,  and  none  the  less  because  his 
pages  move  alike  the  stately  Latin,  the  fierce  and  moody 
Scandinavian,  the  sentimental  German,  the  reserved  Eng- 
lishman and  the  talkative  Gaul.  Isaiah  and  David  are 
none  the  less  Hebrew  in  thought  and  imagery  because  their 
odes  are  the  fit  vehicles  to  express  the  praises  and  prayers 
of  men  of  all  races  and  of  all  times.  Shakspeare  was 
English  of  Elizabeth's  time,  and  Milton  a  Puritan  of  the 
times  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  Dryden  a  wit  of  ths  days 
of  Charles  and  William,  and  yet  they  speak  to  the  heart  of 
every  nationality.     While  the  universality  of  the  poet  re- 


246  Books  and  Reading.  [Cuap.  xvl 

quires  that  he  slioiild  use  a  language  wliich  all  can  under- 
stand, his  genius  impels  him  to  employ  a  dialect  of  his  own 
which  no  man  can  imitate. 

^The  poet,  especially  the  poet  of  modern  times,  must  re- 
flect the  culture  of  his  own  generation,  and  in  that  form 
and  degree  in  which  it  has  affected  himself  personally  ;  his 
own  individuality  determining  very  largely  the  use  which 
he  makes  of  it.  Neither  Tennyson  nor  George  Eliot  nor 
Kobert  Browning  could  have  written  what  or  a«  they  have 
done,  in  any  other  than  the  present  generation.  The  In 
Memoriam,  the  Spanish  Gypsy,  the  Ring  and  the  Book, 
all  treat  of  themes  and  follow  trains  of  thought  which  their 
authors  did  not  wholly  create.  Nor  could  they  have  ima- 
gined these  had  they  not  found  them  existing  already  in 
the  minds  of  multitudes  of  their  countrymen.  The  so- 
called  Poets  of  the  Lake  School — Wordsworth,  Coleridge, 
Southey  and  Wilson — found  already  existing,  a  readi- 
ness to  be  moved  in  the  direction  in  which  they  thought 
and  wrote,  much  as  they  accomplished  in  giving  that  direc- 
tion permanence  and  force.  They  could  scarcely  have 
gained  a  hearing  in  the  generation  previous,  however  earn- 
estly or  boldly  they  might  have  striven.  On  the  other 
hand,  Tennyson,  Browning,  and  Eliot  are  no  more  closely 
united  by  sharing  in  the  thought  and  feeling  of  their  times, 
than  they  are  severed  by  the  pronounced  individuality  for 
which  each  is  distinguished.  However  closely  the  Lake 
Poets  resemble  one  another  in  certain  common  aims,  each 
individual  poet  is  distinguished  by  features  which  are  un- 
mistakably his  own. 

It  by  no  means  follows,  however,  because  every  poet 
must  deal  with  those  thoughts  and  feelings  which  are  com- 
mon to  human  nature,  and  are  as  universal  as  the  race, 
that  every  poet  should  be  popular  in  the  sense  of  being 
easily  understood  and  pa&sionately  loved  by  men  of  every 
type  of  thought  and  every  shade  or  degree  of  emotion. 


Chap.  XVI.]  Poetry  an'd  Poets.  247 

Tliere  are  and  there  ought  to  be  poets  for  the  multitude 
and  poets  for  the  people,  as  well  as  jwets  who,  while  they 
move  the  multitude  to  a  certain  degree  of  appreciation  and 
pleasure  in  single  poems  or  passages,  move  the  few  fbi 
more  profoundly  in  every  line  which  they  write.  Even 
those  who  are  called  poets  for  the  multitude — the  poets  in 
whom  all  men  delight — delight  the  few  far  more  intensely 
whose  taste  has  been  ripened  by  culture  and  has  become 
more  appreciative  by  critical  training.  As  culture  ad- 
vances and  thought  becomes  more  just  and  profound,  as 
society  is  in  a  certain  sense  more  artificial  and  yet  comes 
nearer  to  the  simplicity  of  nature  and  the  frankness  of 
honesty  tempered  by  love,  we  may  anticipate  that  poetry 
will  follow  in  the  line  of  culture,  wherever  it  can  find  "  an 
audience  fit  though  few."  "  If  the  time  should  ever  come 
when  what  is  now  called  science,  thus  familiarized  to  man, 
should  put  on,  as  it  were,  a  form  of  flesh  and  blood,  the 
poet  will  lend  his  divine  spirit  to  aid  the  transfiguration, 
and  will  welcome  the  being  thus  produced,  as  a  dear  and 
genuine  inmate  of  the  household  of  man." 
(  It  follows  that  a  taste  for  poetry,  especially  that  of  the 
highest  order,  is  to  a  great  extent  the  product  of  special 
culturej  It  is  true,  as  we  have  observed,  that  an  ear  for 
verse  and  an  eye  for  bold  and  brilliant  imagery  are  natural 
to  all  men,  and  that  children  even  in  their  earliest  years 
are  charmed  with  any  measured  refrain  that  sets  forth  a 
stirring  or  plaintive  story.  The  "  drum  and  trumpet " 
lyrics  of  Macaulay  suit  the  martial  bravado  of  the  storm- 
ing boy.  By  and  by  the  pictured  tales  of  Scott  will  en- 
chant his  fancy  while  his  ready  ear  responds  to  the  rapid 
lines  that  hurry  the  attention  along  by  the  simple  rush  of 
their  own  movement.  Gentler  ballads  of  olden  times,  of 
deserted  children  and  ladies  sore  oppressed  or  ca])tured  and 
immured  by  giant  or  robber, — plaintive  tales  of  the  Ed- 
wins and  Angelinas  of  later  days,  delight  the  ear  and  move 


248  Books  and  Heading.  [Ca  ap.  xvi. 

the  lieart  of  the  little  raaideu,  in  whom  the  poetic  sense 
begins  to  stir  and  flutter.  This  is  the  period  for  reading 
and  for  learning  verses  of  all  sorts,  both  ballads  and 
hymns,  provided  the  ballads  and  hymns  are  fraught  -with 
poetic  feeling  and  imagery.  Much  of  the  stuff  which  passes 
for  poetry  with  young  folks,  and  their  parents  also,  should 
be  carefully  shunned.  Its  rhythm  is  jingle,  its  words 
are  strained,  its  ?)ictures  are  hazy,  its  sentiment  is  silly. 
But  if  the  imageiy  be  sharp  and  bold,  the  diction  concise 
and  strong,  the  measure  be  smooth  and  sweet,  and  the 
sentiments  manly,  tender  and  correct,  then  the  more  that 
is  learned  the  better.  It  were  not  amiss  if  books  of 
ancient  ballads  were  studiously  sought  for  and  learned 
by  heart,  and  by  this  means  the  leading  scenes  and  per- 
sonages of  English  history  were  permanently  fixed  in  the 
mind.  There  are  not  a  few  boys  who  are  capable  of  en- 
joying the  Iliad  in  a  translation,  and  scarcely  one  who 
might  not  be  trained  to  delight  in  Scott  long  before  it  is 
dreamed  that  they  can  relish  poetry.  Certainly  such  read- 
ing is  greatly  to  be  preferred  to  the  rubbish  of  the  sensation 
novels,  whether  moral  or  otherAvise,  with  which  now-a-days 
the  appetites  of  so  many  are  weakened  or  debauched. 

But  this  early  relish  for  poetic  tale^s  scarcely  deserves  to 
be  called  a  taste  for  poetry.  That  which  is  really  such, 
supposes  a  nicety  of  eye,  a  reflecting  habit,  and,  above  all, 
a  delicacy  of  feeling  which  are  not  native  to  impetuous 
and  objective  childhood — least  of  all  to  boyhood,  after  the 
gentleness  of  infancy  has  entirely  given  way  to  the  storm- 
ing and  outward  life  of  school  and  the  play-ground.  It  is 
not  unfrequently  observed  that  the  sister  who  is  younger 
by  many  years  than  her  older  brother  has  devcloj)ed  a 
taste  for  poetry  long  before  he  has  dreamed  of  such  an  ex- 
perience. Perhaps  she  is  forced  to  endure  his  ill-sup- 
pressed contempt  that  slie  is  growing  sentimental,  because 
she  begins  to  delight  in  Cowper  or  Milton  while  as  yet 


Chap.  XVI.]  Podry  and  Poets.  249 

he  finds  no  interest  in  either.  The  reason  is  obvious. 
The  girl  begins  to  reflect  sooner  than  the  boy,  and  sooner 
finds  in  the  poet  whose  verse  detains  her  ear  some  transcript 
of  an  observation  of  nature  without,  or  of  the  heart  of  man 
witiiin, — such  as  she  herself  may  have  made,  only  the  poet 
has  expressed  them  so  much  more  fully  and  successfully 
than  she  could  have  dreamed  were  possible.  Or,  it  may 
be,  some  romantic  preference  may  have  called  into  life  the 
latent  poesy  of  her  nature,  and  to  her  girlish  enthusiasm 
nature  has  suddenly  become  flushed  with  a  roseate  light, 
and  man  himself  transfigured  with  idealized  perfections. 
However  it  may  come,  and  whether  sooner  or  later,  the 
day  is  memorable  to  boy  or  maid  when  he  or  she  begins 
to  read  genuine  poetry  with  interest,  not  for  the  tale,  nor 
the  verse,  but  for  the  transcript  which  he  finds  of  what  he 
himself  has  seen,  or  felt,  or  thought.  Should  perchance  a 
sensitive  and  thoughtful  boy  find  a  volume  of  Cowper 
opened  at  the  Winter  Evening,  or  the  Winter  Walk  at 
Noon,  and,  caught  by  some  striking  line,  read  on  till  what 
he  has  seen  in  nature  or  observed  in  life  should  seem 
imaged  as  in  a  mirror,  there  is  awakened  within  him  a 
new  sense,  and  he  has  found  a  treasure  of  enjoyment  of 
which  he  had  never  dreamed.  Or  let  Whittier's  Snow 
Bound  be  effectively  read  of  an  evening  to  a  family  circle. 
The  listless  boy  or  romping  girl  sits  impatiently  and 
wishes  the  hateful  task  were  over  which  defers  a  promised 
sport,  when  all  at  once  some  striking  scene  from  life  starts 
into  view,  and  the  recognition  is  waked  as  in  a  moment, 
'  that  I  have  seen  and  felt  myself.'  Such  a  sense  may  be 
gradually  quickened  and  developed  under  the  readings  of 
the  sch(^l  in  a  well-selected  class-book,  or  be  suddenly 
^ggiled^R'th  by  some  impressive  recitation  of  descriptive  or 
impassioned  poesy. 

Such  a  taste  is  not,  of  course,  matured  because  it  has 
sprung  into  being.     It  is  simply  an  awakened  capacity  of 


250  Books  and  Reading,  [Chap,  xvl 

feeling  which  needs  the  direction  of  the  judgment.  Its 
very  freshness  and  strength  may  be  the  more  misleading, 
if  its  impuls&s  alone  are  consulted.  It  may,  through  per- 
verseness  and  conceit,  remain  what  it  was  at  the  outset, 
crude,  coarse,  and  confident,  or  weak,  silly,  and  sentimental. 
It  may  even  be  degenerate  in  its  judgments,  and  teach  it- 
self to  prefer  rant  to  inspiration,  or  weak  bombast  to  solid 
brilliancy,  provided  it  refuses  to  defer  to  the  guidance  of 
others  or  blindly  gives  itself  up  to  the  influence  of  the 
single  author  who  first  waked  its  poetic  feeling  into  life. 
Poetic  sensibility  is  not  poetic  taste,  however  frequently 
the  one  is  mistaken  for  the  other.  The  capacity  to  be 
pleasantly  affected  by  poetic  composition,  and  even  the 
capacity  for  a  high  degree  of  excitement  under  its  influ- 
ence, may  coexist  with  a  perverted  taste  and  a  misguided 
judgment  in  respect  to  the  comparative  merits  of  an  author, 
and  an  almost  entire  absence  of  any  just  conception  of 
what  constitutes  poetry.  It  is  a  rash  conclusion  which  not 
a  few  admit,  that  because  the  end  of  poetry  is  pleasure, 
therefore  all  writing  in  verse  which  pleases  must  of  course 
be  poetry ;  or,  this  or  that  composition  does  not  please,  and 
therefore  it  is  not  poetry.  Yielding  to  this  hasty  in- 
ference, not  a  few  young  persons  never  rise  above  the  first 
favorite  author;  who  was  well  enough  fitted  to  awaken 
the  earliest  romance  of  youthful  feeling,  but  should  long 
ago  have  given  place  to  writers  of  a  higher  tone  in  senti- 
ment and  diction.  Or,  not  pursuing  poetic  studies,  they 
judge  of  poetry  by  the  depreciating  estimate  which  in  later 
years  they  form  of  the  authors  that  once  enraptured  but 
now  disappoint  or  disgust  tliem.  Or  if  asked  to  read  a 
poet  of  superior  grade,  and  they  fail  to  find  the  excitement 
of  their  youthful  readings,  they  conclude  either  that  there 
are  no  poets  like  their  early  favorites,  or  that  poetry  itself 
has  become  one  of  the  lost  arts,  and  is  fast  dying  out 
from  the  world. 


Chap.  XVI.]  Poetry  and  Pods.  251 

"We  may  not  then  judge  of  poetry  by  our  earliest  likings 
or  our  first  impressions.  It  were  as  reasonable  to  judge  of 
color  and  form  in  nature  and  art,  by  the  crudest  impres- 
sions of  childhood.  The  coarsest  tints,  the  most  flaunting 
hues,  as  well  as  hideous  forms  and  violent  contrasts  should 
be  approved,  because  they  attract  and  please  the  uuin- 
structed  eye.  This  is  so  far  from  being  true,  that  "  an  ac- 
curate taste  in  poetry,  and  in  all  tlie  other  arts,  as  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds  has  observed,  is  an  acquired  talent  which 
can  only  be  produced  by  thought  and  a  long-continued 
intercourse  with  the  best  models  of  composition."  We 
should  therefore  begin  our  reading  of  poetry,  or  should 
direct  the  reading  of  others,  just  as  we  should  begin  the 
cultivation  of  the  eye  or  the  ear  in  drawing  or  in  music, 
with  the  distinct  expectation  that  our  capacity  to  feel  and 
to  judge  is  to  grow  more  correct  and  become  more  refined 
by  what  it  feeds  on.  We  should  indeed  not  disdain  what 
pleases  us  at  first  by  idly  imagining  that  we  ought  to  enjoy 
something  higher.  As  for  the  pretence  that  we  enjoy  and 
comprehend  what  we  neither  understand  nor  love,  we 
should  shun  it  as  a  paltry  affectation,  if  not  as  a  mean  dis- 
honesty. But  we  should  expect  that  our  taste  is  to  be  ele- 
vated and  refined,  as  we  exercise  it  wisely  and  lovingly 
upon  what  the  advice  of  others  may  recommend,  and  as  we 
strive  at  times  to  see  beauty  and  finish  in  writers  who  at 
first  neither  excite  nor  overwhelm  us.  No  spirit  is  so  hos- 
tile to  progress  in  any  of  the  finer  studies  or  the  nobler  arts 
as  the  spirit  of  satisfaction  and  conceit  Avith  present  ideals 
of  perfection,  or  as  an  obstinate  unreadiness  to  open  the 
mind  to  those  w'hich  are  higher  and  nobler.  With  this 
precaution,  we  may  use  the  liberty  of  selecting  our  poets 
according  to  our  present  tastes,  and,  if  we  select  for  others, 
according  to  their  prevailing  tastes  and  capacities.  We 
sliould  not  force  upon  ourselves,  least  of  all  should  we  force 
upon  others,  the  works  of  poets  whom  we  or  they  do  not 


252  Books  and  Beading.  [Chap,  xvi 

fancy,  and  whom  we  or  they  by  any  effort  cannot  Ijparn  to 
enjoy.  This  is  especially  true  of  poetic  reading,  because 
enjoyment  and  sympathy  and  heartiness  are  its  very  atmos- 
phere and  life.  The  miss  who  delights  in  Mrs.  Hemans 
or  Miss  Landon,  and  can  find  neither  meaning  nor  music 
in  Coleridge,  Jean  Ingelow,  or  Tennyson,  may  be  let  alone 
for  a  while,  in  the  hope  that  perhaps  her  taste  may  ripen, 
and  in  becoming  mature  may  be  changed.  The  objective 
youth,  whose  ear  is  captivated  with  the  ring  of  Byron's 
verse  and  the  boldness  of  his  passion,  should  not  be 
crammed  with  Wordsworth  or  Tennyson.  Whittier  and 
Longfellow  are  better  for  many  a  reader,  at  a  certain  stage 
of  their  culture  and  taste,  than  Bryant  or  Dana.  As  age 
advances  and  reflection  matures,  as  the  ear  becomes  more 
delicate,  the  sensibility  to  choice  and  pure  words  is  more 
refine<l,  and  the  choice  of  imagery  is  more  wisely  and  hon- 
estly more  fastidious,  the  old  and  familiar  poets  will  dis- 
close new  beauties,  and  poets  before  unappreciated  will  be 
understood  and  enjoyed.  With  this  progress  in  the  tastes, 
there  will  be  some  change  in  our  favorite  poets,  or  at  least 
in  the  reasons  why  our  favorite  poets  are  loved. 

We  have  already  sought  to  illustrate  the  truth,  that  al- 
though the  poet  should  recognize  that  which  is  common  to 
the  race,  and  which  in  a  certain  sense  attracts  the  sympa- 
thies  of  all  men,  he  may  also  reflect  the  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings which  are  distinctly  recognized  by  men  in  j)cculiar 
circumstances  or  of  special  experiences.  Tennyson's  In 
Memoriam  speaks  to  the  heart  of  man  as  man ;  yet  it  is  only 
the  man  of  the  present  century,  who  is  acquainted  with  the 
speculations  of  the  time  and  has  been  staggered  by  its 
doubts  and  misgivings,  who  can  fully  appreciate  thousands 
of  its  masterly  strokes  and  its  delicate  suggestions.  The 
Princess  of  the  same  author,  and  the  Aurora  Leigh  of  Mrs. 
Browning,  can  be  adequately  enjoyed  only  by  one  who  has 
read  much  and  thought  deeply  on  tlie  social  problems  of 


Chap.  XVI.]  Poctry  and  Poets.  253 

the  time.  But  it  is  none  the  less  true  that  the  poetry  is 
genuine  and  excellent  for  all.  Shakspeare  and  Milton, 
and  even  Burns  and  Cowper,  contain  many  passages  of 
which  only  the  man  of  much  reading  and  of  grave  reflec- 
tion can  adequately  estimate  the  meaning  or  enjoy  the  sub- 
tle flavor.  It  is  most  unjust  to  say  of  the  works  of  Words- 
worth and  Tennyson,  of  Browning  and  Eliot,  or  of  the 
passages  of  Shakspcare  and  Milton  referred  to,  that  they 
are  not  poetry,  because  they  are  not  understood  by  men  of 
all  classes  and  in  all  stages  of  culture  and  thought.  The 
mature  and  refined  thought  of  an  age  of  daring  speculation, 
and  the  subtle  emotions  M^iich  spring  out  of  its  life  of 
doubt  and  faith,  of  fear  and  hope,  may  properly  be  reflected 
in  its  poetry.  Poetry  should  never  be  technical  or  select, 
in  the  sense  of  using  the  language  of  a  coterie  or  a  school, 
but  it  may  express  the  feelings  and  thoughts  that  are  pro- 
duced by  an  age  or  a  generation  of  special  culture  and  spe- 
cial conflicts. 

It  is  implied  in  all  these  hints  and  rules  that  poetry,  to 
be  fully  appreciated  and  enjoyed,  must  be  earnestly  and 
perse veringly  studied.  This  may  seem  to  many  like  an 
obvious  and  a  startling  paradox.  How  can  that  which  is 
chiefly  designed  for  pleasure  require  study,  which  is  uni- 
versally associated  with  painful  effort  ?  We  reply  :  a  poem 
must  be  studied  for  the  same  reasons  and  in  the  same  way 
that  a  painting,  an  engraving,  or  a  drawing  must  be  studied, 
in  order  that  the  refinement  of  its  perfection  may  be  re- 
vealed. If  the  poet  has  a  soul  that  is  "  finely  touched  " 
it  is  "  to  fine  issues  ;"  and  in  order  that  he  should  be  ade- 
quately estimated  and  judged,  he  requires  a  soul  akin  to  his 
own,  a  soul  in  some  sense  as  fine  to  receive  as  his  is  fine  to 
give.  How  shall  one  sing  joyous  songs  to  him  who  is  of 
a  heavy  heart?  By  this  same  rule,  let  the  poet's  imagina- 
tion be  ever  so  fertile  and  refined,  how  can  it  create 
for  the  reader  who  cannot  recreate  after  him  at  his  suggest- 


254  Books  and  Readhig.  [Chap.  xvl 

ing  words  ?  What  are  the  words  that  speak  his  thoughts 
or  feelings  if  the  reader  does  not  translate  tliem  into  mean- 
ing  by  his  own  answering  thoughts  and  feelings  ?  To  re- 
quire that  the  poet  should  inject  his  thoughts  into  a  lazy 
intellect,  or  kindle  emotions  in  a  torpid  or  stupid  heart,  is 
to  insult  his  very  name  and  office.  If  the  priest  should 
not  be  allowed  to  approach  the  altar  except  with  unspotted 
robes,  and  after  many  lustrations,  let  not  the  worshiper 
enter  the  sanctuary  with  soiled  feet  and  careless  tread. 
When  it  is  fit  to  inspect  a  choice  engraving  with  careless 
eye  and  divided  attention,  or  to  handle  a  Sevres  vase  or  an 
exquisite  chasing  with  a  rough  hand  and  a  heedless  grasp, 
then  shall  it  be  seemly  to  read  the  choicest  works  of  a  poet's 
inspiration  and  a  poet's  ear  with  a  dawdling  nonchalance, 
or  to  answer  to  his  thoughts  and  feelings  with  energies  half 
aroused  or  an  attention  that  is  slack  or  divided.  Many  of 
the  poet's  best  productions  are  so  subtle  as  to  escape  the 
notice  of  any  other  than  a  close  and  fixed  attention. 
His  felicities  of  thought  can  only  be  appreciated  by  a  mind 
that  concentrates  its  eye  for  subtle  differences.  His  images 
and  allusions,  his  pictures  and  emotionsi,  are  often  the  more 
beautiful  because  they  do  not  spring  into  the  eyes  of  the 
reader,  whether  he  will  or  no.  Beauties  that  are  modest 
and  even  sliy  are  often  specially  attractive  in  poetry  as  they 
are  in  life.  It  is  to  be  remembered,  also,  that  great  writers, 
and  especially  poets  who  are  great,  are  usually  wiser  than 
their  readers.  Thoy  know  more  of  the  art  in  whicli  they 
excel  than  many  of  thoir  readers  or  critics.  They  are  often 
too  proud  ostentatiously  to  disj>lay  or  set  off  their  wares  by 
rhetorical  tours  deforce.  If  the  genuine  poet  often  require, 
he  will  always  Lear  study  and  repay  it.  That  man  has  a  most 
dishonorable  and  unjust  conception  of  poetry  and  the  poet 
who  regards  poetry  as  valuable  only  to  while  away  a  lazy 
or  listless  hour.  If  poetry,  to  be  appreciated  and  enjoyed, 
must  be  studied,  much  more  does  it  require  to  be  studied 


Chap.  XVI.]  Poetry  and  Poets.  255 

in  order  that  it  may  be  intelligently  criticised.  But  the 
study  is  not  painful,  though  it  must  be  faithful ;  it  brings 
its  abundant  and  exquisite  enjoyments,  though  it  requires 
faithful  and  persevering  effort.  No  luxury  of  literature  is 
so  exquisite  as  that  which  comes  of  a  really  superior  poem, 
of  which  the  diction  is  finished  and  smooth,  the  imagery  is 
bold  and  brilliant,  the  sentiments  are  hispiriting  and  ele- 
vating, the  pathos  is  tender  and  sweet,  and  the  faith  is 
reverent  yet  bold. 

It  follows  that  it  is  well,  at  least  for  the  time,  to  have  a 
favorite  poet,  who  engrosses  our  chief  attention,  and  whose 
best  works  are  read,  and  read  again,  till  they  become  alto- 
gether familiar.  It  may  expose  to  a  certain  narrowness 
and  bigotry  when  our  taste  is  crude  and  unformed,  but  it 
is  wise  after  this  taste  has  become  catholic  and  self-reliant, 
because  in  this  way  we  really  master  the  works  which  we 
have  in  hand.  A  poem,  of  all  literary  products,  deserves 
to  be  often  read  if  it  has  superior  excellence.  It  cannot  be 
appreciated  without ;  neither  the  diction,  nor  the  imagery, 
nor  the  allusions,  nor  the  feeling,  nor  the  truth.  If  we 
give  ourselves  up  for  a  little  while  to  a  single  writer,  we 
live  in  his  atmosphere,  and  form  with  his  mind  and  heart 
the  sympathy  of  almost  a  personal  friendship.  There  are 
not  a  few  men  who  make  a  single  poet  the  favorite  of  their 
lives,  for  some  conspicuous  fitness  of  his  to  their  own  tastes 
and  needs.  Thus  Shakspeare  is  cherished  for  his  many- 
sided  fullness ;  or  Milton  for  his  majestic  music  and  his 
stately  and  solemn  truth  ;  or  Dryden  for  his  comprehensive 
common  sense  and  ready  wit;  or  Cowper  for  his  domestic 
sympathies  and  habits,  or  his  religious  tenderness ;  or  Scott 
for  his  romantic  spirit;  or  Wordsworth  for  his  sympathy 
with  nature  as  a  peace-giving  and  elevating  friend ;  or 
Tennyson  for  his  struggling  faith  in  goodness  and  in  God ; 
or  Whittier  for  his  love  of  simple  men  and  simple  manners, 
combined  with  a  fiery  enthusiasm  for  the  right ;   or  Long- 


256  Books  a/nd  Reading.  [Chap.  xvl 

fellow  for  the  clearness,  the  music,  and  the  pathos  of  his 
rhymes;  or  Lowell  for  the  abamlon  of  his  affluent  and 
quick  moving  genius.  It  would  not  be  difficult  to  show 
that  the  familiar  study  of  one  of  the  great  poets  of  England 
brings  an  education  of  wider  reach  and  higher  elevation  than 
that  which  is  often  attained  at  the  most  pretentious  and 
costly  schools.  We  have  seen  men  and  women  of  the  olden 
time,  trained  in  the  old-fashioned  schools  of  "  plain  living 
and  high  thinking,"  of  rugged  face  and  form,  of  manners 
unstudied  yet  most  refined,  with  whom  Milton,  or  Cowper, 
or  Shakspeare,  or  Burns  had  been  a  life-long  study,  and 
who  had  gained  thereby  a  power  of  thought,  a  refinement 
of  feeling,  and  a  sagacious  insight  of  which  many  a  flippant 
Bohemian  can  have  no  conception,  whose  mind  has  been 
inundated  by  the  sewerage  of  modern  poetry,  made  up  of 
the  good,  the  indifferent,  and  the  bad.  We  have  been  told 
of  a  wrathful  farmer,  with  whom  Miltonic  studies  were 
always  fresh,  who,  when  selling  a  basket  of  eggs  and  talk- 
ing politics,  in  the  same  breath  vented  his  indignant  im- 
patience at  the  inevitable  law  by  which  bad  politicians 
unite  and  honest  ones  divide,  in  the  words — 

Devil  and  devil  damned 
FIrm.conoord  hold.     Men  only  disagree. 

The  farmer's  family,  in  a  secluded  valley  in  New 
England,  or  on  the  remote  prairie,  in  which  the  girls  can 
effectively  and  lovingly  read,  and  the  boys  can  intelligently 
and  responsively  appreciate  Milton,  or  Siiakspcarc,  or 
Coleridge,  or  Whittier,  may  bo^t  of  a  better  culture  than 
many  a  saloon  in  the  most  pretentious  avenues  of  the 
wealthiest  and  most  luxurious  cities.  Many  a  Scottish 
cottage  draws  from  its  well-thumbed  copy  of  Burns  more 
refinement  of  thought  and  feeling  than  is  attained  by  the 
<mltivated  coxcomb  or  the  accomplished  miss,  whose  man- 
ners and  accomplishments  are  consummate  in  everything 


Chap.  XVI.]  Poetry  and  Poets.  257 

but  the  nobleness  and  refinement  of  sincere  and  elevated 
feeling. 

Better  still  than  to  confine  ourselves  too  long  to  a  single 
favorite  poet,  is  it  to  read  very  frequently  from  a  choice 
selection  of  the  best  poems  of  a  variety  of  authors.  Very 
busy  men,  who  in  their  youthful  and  less  occupied  days 
have  become  familiar  with  the  circle  of  the  best  English 
poets,  may  refresh  their  recollections,  and  deepen  and 
strengthen  their  best  lessons,  by  having  always  at  handy 
and  frequently  in  hand,  a  good  selection  of  the  best  brief 
poems  and  parts  of  poems,  in  which  English  poetry  is  so 
abundant.  We  know  more  than  one  such  person,  who 
often  takes  Palgrave's  Golden  Treasury  as  a  traveling  com- 
panion, and  never  tires — as  who  could  possibly — of  read- 
ing again  and  again  one  of  its  many  gems  in  the  vacancy 
of  the  crowded  rail-car,  or  the  ennui  of  the  steamboat  trip, 
or  the  prolonged  delays  of  the  waiting-room.  Such  a  re- 
source is  worth  not  a  little  if  it  enables  one  under  such 
depressions  to  rise  in  a  moment  by  the  withdrawals  of 
the  imagination. 

Above  the  smoke  and  stir  of  this  dim  spot 
Which  men  call  earth,  and  with  low  thoughted  care 
Confined  and  pestered  in  this  pinfold  here, 
Strive  to  keep  up  a  frail  and  feverish  being. 

Such  a  snatch  of  reading  is  more  than  refreshment;  it  ele- 
vates and  purifies  the  imagination,  and  gives  new  spring 
and  tension  to  our  nobler  nature.  It  is  reasonable  to  hope 
that  many  may  thus 

"  by  due  steps  aspire 
To  lay  their  just  hands  on  that  golden  key 
Which  opes  the  palace  of  eternity." 

Dana's  Household  Book  of  Poetry  is  indeed  a  Hausschatz, 
as  similar  collections  are  called  in  Germany,  from  which 
may  readily  be  drawn  the  beguilement  of  many  a  weary 
17 


258  Booh  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xvi. 

hour,  rest  from  eating  cares,  and  deliverance  from  petty 
irritations. 

We  have  already  anticipated  in  part  the  answer  to  the 
question,  "  Why  should  we  make  much  of  the  reading  and 
study  of  poetry?"  We  may  be  more  explicit  and  add: 
They  are  valuable  for  the  peculiar  and  eievated  pleasure 
which  they  give.  Poetry  pleases  the  ear.  The  charm  of 
rhythmical  verse  is  universally  confessed.  There  is  no- 
thing in  well-turned  prose,  however  choice  in  words,  or 
weighty  in  thought,  or  eloquent  in  emotion  or  appeal,  which 
can  be  compared  with  a  consummate  passage  of  superior 
poetry,  whether  it  be  graphic  in  description,  or  passionate, 
intense,  and  elevating  in  lyric  effect,  or  suggestive  in  re- 
flection, or  life-like  in  the  action  and  emotion  of  the  drama; 
provided  only  the  diction  answers  to  the  sentiment.  The 
limitations  and  the  demands  of  verse  require  something  in 
language  which  cannot  be  enforced  of  prose  writing.  The 
satisfaction  of  these  demands  is  gratifying  to  the  well- 
trained  ear,  not  with  a  merely  sensuous  effect,  but  with  the 
effect  of  sound  as  expressive  of,  and  corresponding  to  the 
soul  of  sense  and  meaning.  The  practised  student  of  poe- 
try may  augment  this  pleasjiire  if  he  will  train  his  ear  by 
the  hearing  of  poetry  well  read.  Few  accompli.shments 
are  more  satisfactory  in  the  use  than  the  skill  to  read  with 
effect  and  feeling,  the  poetry  which  we  or  others  admire 
and  love.  The  gift  of  song  may  be  more  admired  bct^ause 
V-  it  is  more  rare,  but  the  gift  of  reading  musically  and  well, 
is  "an  excellent  thing"  in  man,  and  pre-eminently  in  wo- 
man. To  hear  good  poetry  well  read  is  always  pleasing, 
and  even  to  imagine  we  heard  it  read  as  we  follow  the 
rhythm  in  appreciative  and  critical  judgment  gives  no 
trivial  pleasure. 

The  study  and  reading  of  poetry  exercises  and  cultivates 
the  imagination,  and  in  this  way  imparts  intellectual  power. 
It  is  impossible  to  read  the  product  of  any  poet's  imagina- 


Chap.  XVI.]        '         Poetry  and  Poets.  259 

tion  without  using  our  own.  To  read  what  he  creates  is 
to  recreate  in  our  own  minds  the  images  and  pictures 
wliich  he  first  conceived  and  then  expressed  in  language. 
Tlie  unimaginative  soul  cannot  enjoy  poetry;  he  cannot 
understand  it,  because  he  cannot  interpret  its  words  by  re- 
sponsive pictures  of  his  own  creating.  On  the  other  hand, 
tlie  man  who  does  read  poetry,  and  with  effect  and  appre- 
ciation, must  use  his  imagination,  and  by  use  make  it  more 
dexterous  in  its  power  to  create,  and  more  refined  in  its  ca- 
pacity to  judge.  We  do  not  intend  that  such  a  training 
involves  the  power  of  expression  either  in  prose  or  verse ; 
for  the  reason  that  this  gift,  and  pre-eminently  the  gift  of 
expression  in  verse,  is  the  product  of  another  and  an  en- 
tirely different  species  of  training.  But  that,  poetry 
strenw-thens  and  refines  the  imagination  is  evident  from  the 
fact  tha,t  it  trains  the  mind  to  view  nature  and  the  human 
life  under  poetic  aspects.  The  student  of  Thomson,  Cow- 
per,  of  Wordsworth  and  Tennyson,  cannot  read  them  with 
success  without  forming  the  habit  of  seeing  nature  under 
poetic  aspects  and  with  poetic  eyes.  He  cannot  be  taught 
by  these  writers  to  muse  upon  the  human  life  which  they 
describe  in  its  ideal  and  imaginative  relations,  without  re- 
flecting himself  upon  the  human  life  which  he  sees,  under 
similar  lights  and  shades.  He  must  inevitably  view  its 
darker  shades  as  transfigured  with  poetic  beauty,  and  its 
brighter  aspects  as  tinged  with  graver  shadows.  Whatever 
he  sees,  however  common-place  or  prosaic,  he  learns  to  look 
into  a  picture.  Whatever  he  thinks  of  he  must  invest  with 
ideal  beauty  and  refinement.  That  these  habits  are  favor- 
able to  purity  and  nobleness  of  feeling,  and  to  magnanim- 
ity and  morality  of  word  or  deed,  we  shall  not  argue  over 
again.  We  are  contented  to  cite  a  second  time  the  words 
of  Bacon,  that  "  Poesy  serveth  and  conferreth  to  magna- 
nimity, morality,  and  to  delectation.  And  tlierefore  it  was 
ever  thought  to  have  some  participation  of  divineuess." 


260  ^boka  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xvi. 

What  Coleridge  says  of  the  writing  of  poetry  must  be  true 
of  the  reading  of  it.  "  Poetry  has  been  to  me  its  own  ex- 
ceeding great  reward ;  it  has  soothed  my  afflictions,  it  has 
multiplied  and  refined  my  enjoyments,  and  it  has  given  me 
the  habit  of  wishing  to  discover  the  good  and  the  beautiful 
in  all  that  meets  and  surrounds  me."  Wordsworth's  lines 
recur  to  us  in  this  connection — 

"Blessings  bo  with  them — and  eternal  praise. 
Who  gave  us  nobler  loves  and  nobler  cares — 
The  Poets,  who  on  earth  have  made  us  heirs 
Of  truth  and  pure  delight  by  heavenly  lays." 

The  habitual  reading  and  study  of  poetry,  especially  of 
ihe  loftier  types,  is  eminently  useful  as  a  preparation  for 
the  writer  or  speaker,  who  is  required  to  compose  in  mov- 
ing discourse  on  grave  and  elevated  themes.  It  was  the 
counsel  of  a  very  eminent  Christian  preacher  to  one  who 
was  just  entering  upon  his  profession  :  "Always  have  some 
fine  poem  in  hand — dramatic  is  to  be  preferred — if  you 
would  keep  yourself  in  tone  for  the  successful  composition 
of  sermons ; "  and  the  advice  is  pertinent  to  every  species 
of  elevated  prose  composition. 

That  the  poetry  which  elevates  and  excites  the  imagina- 
tion is  also  favorable  to  religious  aspiration  and  religious 
faith  need  not  be  argued.  It  is  evident  from  the  single 
fact,  that  however  grievously  the  highest  gifts  of  imagina- 
tion have  been  occasionally  abused,  no  great  poet  has  ever 
failed  to  express  at  times  the  semblance  of  high  religious  as- 
piration. Every  poet  of  the  higher  type  has  often  fired  his 
imagination  at  the  altar  of  religious  worship.  Whether 
the  aspirations  and  worship  which  he  has  offered  are  in- 
consistent or  not  M'ith  fixed  princij)les  and  high  moral  pur- 
poses, or  whetlier  they  are  the  passing  flush  of  the  excited 
phantasy,  makes  little  difference  with  our  argument,  that  the 
imagination  cannot  soar  without  flying  upward  towards 
God,  and  in  seeking  God  must  approve  that  which  is  holy 


Chap.  XVI.]  Poetry  and  Poets.  261 

and  pure,  as  well  as  unselfish  and  self-controlled.  The 
imagination,  in  order  to  rise  and  soar,  must  at  least  feign 
that  she  believes  and  worships.  Shelley  and  Byron  and 
Goethe  are  memorable  witnesses  to  this  important  truth. 

But  what  poets  shall  we  read,  and  in  what  order  ?  and 
wliy  should  we  select  certain  poets  above  others?  Upon 
this  topic  we  have  sought  to  furnish  principles  rather  than 
rules ;  to  enable  the  reader  to  select  for  himself  rather  than 
rely  on  the  authority  of  another.  But  we  may  for  a  mo- 
ment glance  at  a  few  of  the  leading  names  in  the  long  list 
of  English  poets.  Chaucer  leads  the  way — the  morning 
star  of  English  poesy — fit  leader  of  a  host  so  brilliant ;  for 
we  may  say,  without  conscious  exaggeration  or  fear  of  dis- 
pute, that  the  poetry  of  England  is  the  richest,  the  most 
varied,  and  the  most  brilliant  of  any  which  the  world  has 
ever  seen ;  as  it  should  be,  reflecting  as  it  does  a  manhood 
which  has  been  developed  most  variously  and  most  nobly, 
and  a  life  the  most  heroic,  the  most  fervent,  the  most  affec- 
tionate, that  has  marked  the  world's  history.  Chaucer 
must  be  studied  in  order  to  be  read  ;  but  when  Chaucer 
has  been  studied  so  as  to  be  easily  followed,  he  confronts  you 
with  the  dawn  of  a  brilliant  day — dewy,  fresh,  transparent, 
and  invigorating.  He  gives  you  the  Odyssey  of  the  Eng- 
lish poetry,  and  reveals  the  spring-time  of  English  life. 
Next  comes  Spenser,  wearisome  for  his  meandering  verse 
laden  with  its  wealth  of  bewildering  imagery,  but  affluent 
to  excess  with  pictures  that  are  clear  and  bright,  and  al- 
ways noble,  chivalrous,  pure  and  Christian.  He  gives 
English  feeling  in  its  knightly  aspect,  as  it  was  exempli- 
fied in  the  life  of  Sidney  and  others  of  the  selecter  spirits 
of  "  great  Eliza's  golden  time."  Then  comes  Shakspeare, 
the  myriad-minded  indeed,  reflecting  in  the  manifoldness 
of  his  products  and  the  power  with  which  he  lives  and  feels 
in  all,  the  fervent  and  manifold  life  of  England's  popula- 
tion in  his  times  :  the  admiration  of  the  modern  world  in 


262  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xvr. 

its  height  of  culture  and  its  depth  of  philosophy  ;  the  chal- 
leno-er  of  critics,  before  whose  mysterious  power  to  think 
and  express  they  confess  themselves  abashed,  and  by  the 
unsolved  enigmas  of  many  of  whose  characters  and  whose 
truths  they  continue  to  ba  dazed  and  overcome.  Milton 
follows,  representing  another  type  of  poets,  and  another 
aspect  of  English  life  ;  learned,  grave,  and  stern,  bearing 
the  impress  of  one  who  had  indeed  been  "  caught  up  into 
Paradise  and  heard  unspeakable  words  ;"  but  still  human 
in  his  unmatched  love  of  nature,  his  tender  sympathy  with 
human  life,  and  .his  delight  in  music,  whether 

He  hears  the  pealing  organ  blovf 

To  the  full-voiced  choir  below, 

In  service  high  and  anthems  clear, 

or  rejoices  in  the  sweet  rising  of  the^earliest  morn  with 
"charm  of  earliest  birds."  Milton  gives  us  the  life  of  the 
English  people,  when  believing  in  God  as  the  greatest  of 
kings,  they  dared  in  his  name  to  vindicate  the  rights  of  hu- 
man subjects,  and  showed  the  virtues  of  that  stern  knight- 
hood which  had  received  such  a  fiery  consecration.  We 
name  Dryden  next,  the  best  and  the  manliest  poet  of 
English  thought  and  feeling  at  the  beginning  of  a  sad 
degeneracy — the  man  of  the  world,  frank,  brave,  out- 
spoken, with  a  brilliant  genius,  but  often  untrue  to  his 
better  self  through  the  corruption  of  manners  and  the 
degradation  of  the  higher  imagination.  Pope  follows  next, 
sententious,  acute,  brilliant,  and  felicitous,  the  servant  of 
an  age  which  he  was  content  to  flatter  and  to  please,  but 
never  attempted  to  elevate,  who  fixed  for  English  poetry 
that  factitious  and  stilted  poetic  diction  which  was  echoed 
and  re-echoed  by  imitators  till  it  became  ashamed  and 
vexed  at  its  own  empty  reiterations. 

Against  this  excess  of  factitious  emptiness  there  came  an 
\nevitable  reaction.      Thomson  dared  to  follow  his  own 


Chai>.  XVI.]  Poetry  and  Poets.  263 

luxuriant  fancy,  and  rose  to  occasional  flights  that  remind 
us  of  the  earlier  and  better  times  of  Milton  and  Spenser. 
Cowpor  with  no  suspicion  of  his  own  genius,  and  often 
homely  and  uncultured  in  his  diction,  was  by  the  very  un- 
consciousness of  his  power  left  more  free  from  the  tram- 
mels of  allegiance  to  poets  or  critics,  to  follow  the  prompt- 
in<''s  of  his  love  of  nature,  humanity,  and  God.  Crabby, 
more  liomely  even  than  Cowper,  was  also  more  literal  than 
he  in  his  transcripts  of  the  humble  life  with  which  he  was 
familiar.  Burns,  having  no  impulse  and  little  guidance 
except  from  within,  sung  from  his  own  heart  songs  of 
penetrating  sense  and  wondrous  tenderness.  Campbell, 
Scott,  and  Joanna  Baillie  represent  types  that  are  unique, 
but  each  gave  an  impulse  to  the  better  spirit.  Byron  was 
stirred  by  pride  and  wrath  to  use  the  genius  which  he 
could  not  repress ;  breaking  other  of  the  traditions  of  the 
past  besides  the  poetic,  which  he  fancied  he  kept  as  against 
his  rivals,  the  Lake  Poets.  With  Byron,  Shelley  may  prop- 
erly be  connected,  though  in  many  respects  more  spiritual, 
refined  and  noble.  Meanwhile  the  Lake  School  had  been 
gathering  strength,  and  begrm  to  act  as  a  redeeming  force. 
Wordsworth,  with  his  cool  defiance  of  the  prevailing 
fashion,  promulgated  an  extreme  theory,  with  a  practice 
still  more  extreme,  Coleridge,  Southey,  Wilson,  Landor, 
and  Lamb  were  agreed,  not  in  adoptitig  the  theory  or  fol- 
lowing the  practice  of  Wordsworth,  but  in  their  emancipa- 
tion from  any  fashion  of  poetic  diction,  and  in  their  fresh 
and  liberal  imitation  of,  or  rather  inspiration  by,  the  elder 
poets.  From  their  triumph  commences  the  new  era  of 
English  poetry  in  England  and  America,  Milman,  Ten- 
nyson, Barry  Cornwall,  Henry  Taylor,  the  Brownings, 
Plond,  ingelow,  Arthur  Clougli,  and  Matthew  Arnold, 
in  England  ;  Dana,  Pierpop.t,  Percival,  Bryant,  Longfel- 
low, Lowell,  AVhittier,  and  Emerson  in  America,  follow  in 
great  or  less  measure  the  impulses  of  the  modern  school, 


264  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xvi. 

whicli  we  need  not  characterize.  I-«ast  of  all  comes  Wil- 
liam Morris,  with  his  antique  and  objective  spirit,  as  a 
healthful  and  needed  counterpoise  to  the  excessively  sub- 
jective tendencies  of  the  same  recent  school. 

In  religious  poetry  English  literature  is  rich.  Milton, 
Greorge  Herbert,  Watts,  Doddridge,  the  Wesleys,  Keble, 
and  Faber  are  examples  of  its  different  types.  In  j)oetic 
translators  from  the  ancient  bards  we  have  of  Homer, 
Chapman,  Pope,  Cowper,  Lord  Derby,  Sotheby,  Newman, 
Bryant  and  others ;  of  Virgil,  Dryden,  and  Conington ;  of 
Horace,  Lytton  Bulwer  and  Conington ;  of  Dante,  Cary 
and  Longfellow ;  of  Tasso,  Fairfax ;  and  of  various  works 
of  the  modern  Germans,  Coleridge,  Scott,  Lytton  Bulwer, 
and  others. 

But  it  is  time  we  had  ended.  The  golden  roll  of 
English  poetry  is  embarrassing  from  its  wealth  and  tempt- 
ing suggestions. 


CHAPTER  Xyil. 

THE   CRITICISM   AND   HISTORY   OF   LITERATURE. 

Within  the  present  century,  tliere  has  come  into  bein^ 
a  new  description  of  Books  and  Reading,  viz. :  those  which 
are  devoted  to  the  criticism  and  history  of  literature  itself. 
Our  libraries  and  book-shops  are  furnished  with  many 
books  which  consist  of  criticisms  of  other  books.  Not  only 
is  there  a  countless  number  of  essays  devoted  to  the  criti- 
cism and  interpretation  of  single  authoi;^  and  even  of  single 
works,  but  entire  volumes  are  occupied  with  commentaries 
on  great  authors  or  some  one  of  their  writings.  We 
have  more  than  one  series  of  essays,  and  even  whole  libra- 
ries, occupied  solely  with  critiques  upon  single  writers,  as 
Homer,  Goethe,  and  Shakspeare.  Active  controversies 
have  arisen  between  the  partisans  of  opposing  theories. 
Indeed,  critiques  and  counter-critiques  arc  so  abundant, 
that  it  almost  seems  as  though  this  was  the  age  of  nothing 
but  criticism,  and  literature  were  nothing  if  not  critical. 
It  is  certain  there  now  exists  a  special  department  of  litera- 
ture which  is  employed  in  the  interpretation  and  judgment 
of  literature  itself,  and  that  it  has  enlisted  the  services  of 
many  of  the  ablest  writers  of  their  time,  some  of  whom 
have  not  only  been  distinguished  as  critics  of  the  produc- 
tions of  men  of  surpassing  genius,  but  have  themselves 
been  known  as  foremost  writers  of  their  own  generation. 
We  need  name  only  Godhe,  the  SchUgels,  Coleridge, 
Wordsworth,  Hade,  de  Stael,  Sainte  Beuve,  Professor  John 
Wilson,  and  Mattheio  Arnold.  Criticism  itself  has  become 
a  dcpaitmcnt  of  literature,  and  is  justified  in  its  claims  by 

265 


266  BooJcs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  XVIL 

being  tilso  historical,  philosophical,  and  almost  creative  of 
itself. 

This  new  criticism,  in  the  eminent  sense  of  the  phrase, 
may  be  said  to  be  of  German  origin,  though  it  has  attained 
a  vigorous  growth  on  English  soil.  That  it  should  first 
have  taken  form  in  Germany  was  natural.  It  is  the  natu- 
ral outgrowth  of  extensive  reading,  joined  with  an  appre- 
ciative imagination  and  reflective  sagacity.  It  must  neces- 
sarily have  been  somewhat  late  in  its  development.  As 
men  must  act  poems  before  they  write  them, — as  one 
or  many  must  act  the  hero,  before  others  can  recount  their 
exploits  or  celebrate  their  praises,  so  literature  must  be 
created  before  it  can  be  criticised.  There  must  be  brought 
into  being  a  considerable  number  of  productions,  in  the 
forms  of  poetry,  fiction,  the  drama,  history,  biography,  and 
eloquence,  before  the  materials  are  prepared  with  which 
the  critic  can  begin.  When  we  assert  that  the  species  of 
criticism  which  we  have  in  mind  is  comparatively  of  recent 
origin,  we  do  not  say  that  criticism  of  6vcry  kind  is  recent 
in  its  growth,  nor  indeed  that  before  the  present  century 
there  were  no  profound  and  genial  critics,  who  took  historic 
and  philosophical  estimates  of  the  great  writers  who  had 
gone  before  them,  but  only  that  criticism  as  it  now  exists 
has  come  into  organized  being,  with  distinctly  recognised 
functions  and  fixed  principles  and  laws  for  its  direction. 
Dryden  and  Johnson  were  both  penetrating,  and  to  a  cer- 
tain degree  large-minded  critics,  but  neither  Dryden  nor 
Johnson  rose  above  very  narrow  traditions,  or  personal 
prejudices.  We  speak  of  the  old  and  the  new  generally 
when  we  say,  that  formerly,  criticism  confined  itself  almost 
exclusively  to  the  forms  of  literature,  as  the  choice  of  words, 
the  rhythm  of  verse,  tiie  proportion  of  parts,  the  order  of 
development,  the  effectiveness  of  the  introduction,  the  argu- 
ment and  the  peroration,  and  these,  with  the  illustration 
and  explanation  of  the  meaning  of  a  work  or  a  writer,  con- 


Chap.  XVII.]        Literary  History  and  Criticism.  267 

stituted  its  principal  aims.  Now,  while  it  docs  not  neglect 
the  form,  it  thinks  more  of  the  matter,  i.  e.  the  weightincss 
and  truth  of  the  thoughts,  tlie  energy  and  nobleness  of  the 
sentiments,  the  splendor  and  power  of  the  imagery,  and  the 
heroic  manhood  or  the  refined  womanhood  of  tlie  writer  as 
expressed  in  his  or  her  works.  Formerly  it  judged  of  the 
form  by  the  fashion^of  the  day  in  respect  of  style  and  dic- 
tion, and  pronounced  everything  barbarous  which  was  not 
after  the  newest  type,  very  much  as  the  dress  or  hat  which 
are  most  becoming  in  themselves  are  declared  to  be  dowdy 
and  frightful,  if  worn  a  year  or  a  season  too  early  or  too 
late.  Now  the  form  is  regarded  as  that  which  in  some  re- 
spects must  be  transient  and  changeable,  according  to  the 
shaping  power  of  the  matter  itself,  the  temper  of  the 
writer,  and  the  temper  of  the  times  in  which  he  lived  and 
in  which  he  wrote.  Formerly  the  critic  was  regarded  by 
others  and  too  often  regarded  himself  as  the  natural  enemy 
of  the  author.  Now  it  is  exacted  of  him  that  he  should  be 
the  expounder  of  the  author's  thoughts  and  the  sharer  of 
his  feelings ;  that  he  should  almost  see  with  his  eyes,  hear 
with  his  cars,  and  judge  wdth  his  mind.  But  this  estimate 
of  the  characteristic  features  of  the  new  criticism  is  general 
and  superficial.  A  closer  and  more  careful  examination, 
gives  the  following  results  : 

First:  the  new  criticism  starts  with  a  moi-e  enlarged  and 
profound  conception  of  litercdure  itself.  The  word  litera- 
ture, etymologically  considered,  is  necessarily  somewhat 
loose  and  general  in  its  import,  signifying  whatever  is  com- 
mitted to  a  permanent  form  by  writing.  When  this  im- 
port is  somewhat  narrowed,  it  signifies  whatever  survives 
a  merely  ephemeral  existence,  and  attracts  the  notice  ot 
second  generation.  In  this  sense,  any  book  or  tract  would 
come  under  this  designation,  if  it  be  worth  retaining  in  ^. 
library,  or  if  it  happens  to  be  so  preserved.  With  the 
older  critics,  literature  included   only  those  works  which. 


268  Books  and  Heading.  fCnAP.  xvii. 

were  eminent  and  attractiv^e  from  perfWIon  in  style, 
beauty  and  fitness  of  imagery,  or  elevation  f.{  sentiment ; 
those  being  preeminent  which  combined  all  Ihese  excel- 
lencies in  one.  By  a  practice  that  was  almoi^t  universal, 
the  word  was  restricted  to  those  works  whose  prime  ob- 
ject was  to  address  the  imagination  or  to  please  the  taste. 
Under  this  usage  literature  was  confined  to  poetry,  fiction, 
and  the  drama,  also  to  various  lighter  effusions,  but  they 
all  must  have  the  common  characteristic  of  being  desijjned 
to  amuse  rather  than  instruct,  to  gratify  some  aesthetic  in- 
terest rather  than  to  convince  or  to  arouse  to  action.  If  a 
work  had  any  higher  end  than  these,  it  was  by  general 
consent  excluded  from  literature  and  deemed  unv/orthy  of 
the  notice  of  the  critic,  as  it  was  exempt  fron:  his  jonsiire. 
The  poetry  of  Milton  was  literature,  but  his  Arcapagitica 
with  its  magnificent  prose,  and  his  Dcfensia  Populi  Anf/li- 
cani  with  its  splendid  invective  A\ere  not,  because  they 
were  political  tracts.  The  poems  of  Donne  and  Cowley 
were  literature,  but  the  sermons  of  Jeremy  Taylor, 
thouffh  luxuriant  with  the  Vv^ealth  of  an  oriental  imagina- 
tion,  were  not  literature,  because  they  were  composed  with 
an  earnest  Christian  purpose.  A  work  profound  in 
thought,  if  it  was  designal  to  convince  of  truth ;  impas- 
sioned in  eloquence,  if  it  was  written  to  persuade ;  bright 
with  humor,  if  it  was  intended  for  practical  effoet ;  was  ex- 
cluded from  the  roll  of  the  literature  of  the  period,  as  too 
severe  and  earnest,  howevx'r  finished  it  might  be  in  style, 
rich  in  imagery,  or  elevated  in  sentiment.  A  conception 
of  literature  so  narrow  must,  of  necessity,  be  belittling  and 
trivial  to  author  and  critic.  It  could  not  but  make  the 
writer  trifling  and  heartless,  and  his  censor  fastidious  and 
flippant. 

Now-a-days  literature  is  restricted  within  no  such  nar- 
row limits,  and,  as  the  result,  both  literature  and  criticism 
have  been  elevated.     While  it  is  required  that  every  work 


Chap.  XVII.]        Literary  History  and  Oritidsm  269 

which  aspires  to  be  called  a  work  of  literature  should  have 
a  certain  perfection  of  finish  and  of  form,  none  are  ex- 
cluded by  reason  of  their  solidity  of  matter,  or  earnestness 
of  aim.  A  history  or  a  sermon,  an  oration  or  a  political 
tract,  even  a  scientific  essay  if  excellent  in  method  and 
style,  in  eloquence  and  imagery,  takes  the  place  as  a  con- 
tribution to  the  literature  of  a  period  or  of  a  nation,  to 
which  its  merits  entitle  it.  As  a  consequence,  the  concep- 
tion of  literature  itself  is  greatly  elevated  and  ennobled. 
Instead  of  being  regarded  as  one  of  the  accessories  of  cul- 
ture and  luxury,  it  is  viewed  as  the  best  and  noblest  ex- 
pression of  the  best  powers  of  the  ablest  men  of  an  age. 
Instead  of  being  judged  by  the  mere  accidents  of  form,  and 
according  to  the  capriciousness  of  a  changing  taste,  it  is 
both  studied  and  tested  according  to  its  perfect  ideal.  It 
follows, — 

Second  :  that  while  the  older  was  narrow  and  conven- 
tional in  its  standards,  the  new  criticism  is  cathoUc  and 
liberal  in  its  spirit.  The  tendency  of  the  earlier  criticism 
was  to  set  up  a  single  author  who  was  supposed  to  be  near- 
est the  ideal  perfection,  as  the  standard  by  which  to  try 
every  other.  Every  other  author,  and  the  literature  of 
every  other  period,  were  measured  by  him  and  the  litera- 
ture of  which  he  set  the  fashion.  Thus,  in  the  days  of 
Queen  Anne,  Drydcn,  Addison,  or  Swift  furnished  the 
norm  of  actual  and  almost  of  possible  perfection.  A 
generation  later,  Johnson  and  his  imitators  imposed,  if 
they  did  not  constitute,  the  rule  of  measurement.  The 
earlier  and  nobler  writers  of  the  days  of  Elizabeth  and 
James  were  now  depreciated  for  their  latinized  and  lum- 
bering sentences  and  then  counted  half  barbarians  for  that 
individual  freedom  which  inspired  their  genius  and  con- 
stituted their  real  strength  and  glory. 

In  a  generation  still  later,  literature  ^vas  still  more  or 
less  conventional,  because  criticism  kept  it  in  bonds  to  the 


270  Boohs  and  Heading.  [Chap.  xvh 

factitious  standards  which  were  derived  from  Addison, 
Pope  and  Johnson  ;  inconsistent  with  one  another  as  were 
the  examples  and  the  teachings  of  the  masters  from  which 
she  received  her  laws.  In  vain  did  Thomson  give  range 
to  the  impulses  of  his  creative  imagination,  and  Cowper 
plead  the  exemption  from  rule  of  one  who  claimed  to  be  a 
rhymester  and  did  not  aspire  to  be  called  a  poet.  In  vain 
did  Burke  give  vent  to  the  eloquence  and  imagery  which 
his  fiery  imagination  could  not  restrain,  aud  Scott  followed 
the  bent  of  a  romantic  spirit  which  was  inbreathed  from 
his  infancy.-  Criticism  was  still  inexorable,  till  the  more 
catholic  spirit  of  Coleridge,  AVordsworth,  and  others  whom 
they  incited  and  inspired,  awakened  the  English  mind  to 
the  personal  and  admiring  study  of  the  older  writers,  and 
encouraged  the  young  litterateurs  to  dare  to  use  all  the  re- 
sources of  their  own  affluent  language  with  the  freedom  of 
the  elder  days,  and  to  give  utterance  to  their  tlioughts  in  a 
more  copious  and  untrammelcd  diction.  The  cumbrous 
phraseology  of  the  old  writers,  their  involved  sentences,  their 
learned  pedantry,  their  disregard  of  neatness,  directness, 
simplicity  and  taste,  had  previously  made  them  outcasts 
from  polite  society,  or  if  they  were  admitted  they  were 
wondered  at,  rather  than  admired  on  account  of  "  the  bar- 
baric pearl  and  gold  "  with  which  tliey  were  so  richly  clad, 
because  their  ornameni,s  were  not  in  the  mode  and  their 
gjirments  were  out  of  fashion.  But  now  these  defects  are 
little  thought  of  in  comparison  with  the  greater  copiousness 
and  variety  of  their  diction,  the  individuality  imj)rcssed 
upon  their  style,  and  the  shaping  of  the  diction  to  the 
thought  and  feeling  of  the  writer.  To  tlie  victory,  thus 
achieved  by  this  more  oatholic  criticism,  do  we  owe  it, 
that,  in  the  last  two  generations,  the  range  of  thought  in 
our  leading  writci-s  has  been  so  greatly  enlarged,  the  depth 
of  their  researches  has  been  proportionately  increased,  their 
philosopliy  has  been  more  profound,  their  strength  and  in- 


Chap.  XVII.]        Literary  History  and  Criticism.  271 

tensity  of  emotion  have  been  augmented,  their  imaginative 
power  has  been  more  unrestrained  and  more  creative,  and 
their  diction  has  been  more  varied  and  powerful. 

Tlie  modern  criticism  has  not  only  been  more  catholic  in  its 
tastes  and  judgments  of  native  literature,  but  also  in  its  ca- 
pacity to  judge  fairly  and  to  appreciate  adequately  the  lite- 
rature of  other  countries  and  of  remote  ages.  In  this  re- 
spect the  earlier  criticism  Avas  eminently  bigoted  and  nar- 
row. In  looking  upon  its  own  narrow  domain  as  the  ce- 
lestial empire  and  the  flowery  land,  it  regarded  all  foreign 
writere  as  in  a  certain  sense  outside  barbarians,  who  might 
indeed  be  worthy  of  consideration  for  certain  excellencies 
of  style  or  imagery,  or  for  the  purposes  of  grammar  and 
philology,  but  were  thought  to  have  no  special  c'.aim  to  at- 
tention as  varied  expressions  of  i'lat  common  Luman  life 
which  "  makes  the  whole  world  kin."  The  new  criticism,  in 
rising  above  such  narrow  prejudices,  has  not  only  done  jus- 
tice to  its  neighbor,  but  it  has  gained  more  than  an  equiva- 
lent for  itself — reaping  the  double  benison  of  charity,  which 
always  blesses  him  that  gives  as  well  as  him  that  takes. 
In  this,  it  has  sympathized  with  the  general  movement  of 
our  times.  While  many  of  the  sciences,  both  physical  and 
humanistic,  have  become  liberal  by  becoming  comparative, 
as  anatomy,  physiology,  and  philology,  criticism  has  also 
learned  to  compare  the  literatures  of  different  ages  and  dif- 
ferent nations,  and  to  estimate  them  by  certain  fundamen- 
tal principles.  Critics  now  bring  to  the  same  bar  of  judg- 
ment Goethe,  Shakspeare  and  Moliere,  and  try  them  all  in 
respect  of  their  common  adaptation  to  express  and  please 
the  same  human  nature.  Criticism  concludes  its  examina- 
tions and  allots  its  sentences  without  respect  of  persons. 
What  is  different  in  each  writer,  in  language  or  nationality, 
serves  to  set  in  bolder  relief  what  is  common;  and  the  va- 
rious methods  by  which  writers  of  different  countries  ac- 
complish the  same  effect,  impress  the  reader  with  the  varied 


272  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  XVH. 

resources  of  human  genius.     National  peculiarities,  whether 
pf  matter  or  form,  are  relished  with  a  special  zest,  and  the 
reader's  attention  is  quickened  as  he  turns  from  one  to  the 
other  with  a  freshened  interest.     This  leads  us  to  Qbserve — 
Third :  The  new  criticism  is  more  phUosophical  than  the 
old  in  its  methods,  and  is  therefore  more  just  in  its  conclu- 
sions.    Indeed   it   calls   itself,  by  eminence,  philosophical 
criticism.     This  claim  is  not  extravagant,  if  the  criticism  is 
at   once   really  elevated   and   catholic,  inasmuch  as  these 
terms  are  almost  interchangeable  with  profound  and  com- 
prehensive.    In  aspiring  to  be  philosophical,  it  seeks  to 
find  those  principles  which  explain  and  justify  everything 
that  is  excellent,  and  to  expose  and  reject  whatever  proves 
to  be  defective  or  bad.    In  respect  of  style  or  diction,  it  seeks 
for   the   permanent   and   common  characteristics  of  good 
writing,  in  those  endless  and  manifold  peculiarities  of  an 
individual  writer,  which  spring  from  tiie  constraints  of  lan- 
guage, from  the  genius  of  his  nation,  from  the  temper  and 
culture  of  his  period,  and  from  his  own  individual  habits 
or  circumstances.     In  respect  of  thought,  it  measures  each 
writer  by  the  circumstances  of  his  peojxle  and  his  time,  as 
well  as  by  the  special  aims  which  he  has  in  view,  and  the 
capacity  or  attainments  which  the  workings  of  his  imagina- 
tion may  have  showed.     If  it  estimates  a  poet  or  novelist  it 
judges  his  genius  by  all  the  local  and  temporary  influences, 
which  made  him  what  he  was,  as  well  as  by  his  acceptable- 
ness  to  the  private  taste  of  the  critic  or  the  critic's  special 
coterie.     It  does  not  try  Goethe  by  IMolidre,  or  eitiicr  by 
Shaksi^eare,  or  each  and  all  by  a  living  English  dramatist 
or  poet,  but  according  to  a  just  stjindard  for  each.     It  does 
not  claim  from  Auerbach  and  Freitag,  what  it  exacts  from 
George  Eliot  and  Anthony  Trollope.     In  the  same  way 
among   English   writers,   it  does   not   measure   Scott   by 
Dickens   or    Dit.'kens   by   Thackeray,    or    Thackeray   by 
George  Eliot,  or  George    Eliot  by  Hawthorne.     It  doea 


Chap.  XVII.]         Literary  History  and  Criticism.  273 

not  test  the  subjective  Tennyson  by  the  objective  William 
Morris,  nor  Robert  Browning  by  the  simple  William 
Barnes  of  Dorsetshire,  nor  The  Spanish  Gypsy  by  The 
Ring  and  the  Booh,  nor  Whittier  by  Longfellow.  It  finds 
what  is  good  in  each,  and  judges  the  good  of  each,  by  the 
individuality  of  the  author,  the  ends  for  which  he  writes, 
the  audience  to  whom  he  writes,  the  times  in  which  he 
writes,  and  the  language  through  which  he  writes,  as  well 
as  the  people  whose  genius  inspires  what  he  writes.  While 
it  receives,  as  the  rule  of  its  judgments,  the  nature  of  man, 
it  recoo-nizes  the  truth  that  this  nature  exists  and  manifests 
itself  under  an  indefinite  variety  of  conditions,  without 
ceasing  to  be  the  same. 

We  add  next,  and — 

Tourth :  that  this  criticism,  in  being  more  just,  is  neces- 
sarily more  generous  and  genial.  It  cannot  well  be  other- 
wise. For  its  cardinal  maxim  is,  the  critic  cannot  be  just 
to  an  author  unless  he  puts  himself  in  the  author's  place. 
Its  comprehensive  rule  is,  if  you  would  understand  an 
author's  meaning  you  must  learn  to  think  as  the  author 
thinks,  to  feel  as  he  feels,  to  look  at  nature  and  man 
through  his  eyes,  to  respond  to  both  with  his  soul,  to  esti- 
mate his  audience  as  he  knew  them,  to  measure  the  instru- 
ments of  language  and  imagery  which  he  had  at  command, 
in  their  several  limitations,  as  well  as  their  capacities.  You 
must  do  all  these  things  before  you  can  even  begin  to 
judge  him.  This  is  only  a  special  application  of  the  prin- 
ciple which  is  expressed  in  the  goldefl  rule,  "  Whatsoever 
ye  would  that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye  even  so  to 
them."  In  putting  in  practice  this  rule  of  simple  justice 
to  any  author  who  deserves  our  attentive  study,  there  is 
wakened  toward  him  an  appreciative  sympathy.  It  is 
only  by  seeking  fairly  and  fully  to  understand  a  writer, 
that  we  are  enabled  to  enter  fully  into  his  feelings,  to  catch 

his  spirit,  and  to  weigh  his  reasonings  if  we  are  not  con- 
18 


274  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xvit 

vinced  by  tliem.  So  complete,  at  times,  is  tliis  sympathy 
with  a  writer  whom  we  desire  to  understand,  that  as  wo 
give  oui*selves  up  to  his  influence,  we  seem  to  be  his  other 
self:  we  seem  with  him  to  create,  and,  borne  on  the  rushinjr 
stream  of  his  thick  coming  fancies,  to  revel  in  the  joy  of 
exercising  the  gift  which  we  have  newly  acquired.  Criti- 
cism thus  applied  wakens  enthusiasm  rather  than  represses 
it.  It  teaches  us  to  look  for  excellences  rather  than  to 
search  for  defects — and  when  it  has  taught  us  to  find  them, 
it  prompts  to  our  unrepressed  enjoyment  of  them.  It 
wakens  in  the  mind  a  generous,  because  an  intelligent  de- 
light in  tlie  beauties  it  reveals.  It  bids  the  reader  be  lenient 
to  inadvertencies  and  defects  in  a  writer  of  positive  merit, 
because  it  teaches  him  how  they  are  to  be  accounted  for. 

Fifth :  The  philosophic  critic,  in  the  very  best  sense  of 
the  term,  interprets  the  author  to  the  reader.  Thomas 
Carlyle  says,  in  his  peculiar  way,  of  Heyne,  the  editor  of 
Yirgil,  "  I  can  remember  it  was  quite  a  revolution  in  my 
mind  when  I  got  hold  of  that  man's  book  on  Virgil.  I 
found  that  for  the  first  time  I  had  understood  him — that 
he  had  introduced  me  for  the  first  time  into  an  insight  of 
Roman  life,  and  pointed  out  the  circumstances  in  which 
the  poems  were  written — and  here  was  interpretation." 
Tliis  is  indeed  interpretation,  and  such  interpretation  is 
needed  in  a  far  wider  and  dee})er  sense  than  is  commonly 
appreciated,  and  of  a  multitude  of  authors  whose  meaning 
seems  obvious  to  a  man  of  common  understanding,  while 
yet  it  may  be  imperfectly  understood.  What  Carlyle  calls 
the  circumstances  in  wliich  a  work  was  written,  are  very 
comprehensive  in  their  significance.  They  include  almost 
everything  which  maybe  known  about  an  author;  not 
the  accidents  of  his  external  life — the  day  of  his  birth  and 
death,  or  the  number  of  years  that  he  lived, — but  the  sort 
of  a  man  he  was  in  character  and  the  sort  of  peo])le  with 
whom  he  had  to  do  ;  and  this,  not  so  much  in  their  man- 


CaAP.  XVII.]       Literary  History  and  Criticism.  275 

ners  and  habits  as  in  their  conceptions  of  life,  their  moving 
principles,  including  tlieir  prejudices  and  superstitions — 
what  they  were  willing  to  fight  for  and  die  for,  what  they 
loved  most  heartily  and  hated  most  bitterly  ;  how  they 
Kept  their  holidays,  how  they  spent  their  work-days,  and 
all  else  that  may  give  a  complete  picture  of  the  life  out  of 
which  sprung  the  poems  or  sermons  or  tracts  which  the 
writer  composed,  and  for  which  he  wrote  them.  Matthew 
Arnold  says,  very  pertinently,  that  "  creative  literary 
genius  does  not  principally  show  itself  in  discovering  new 
ideas,"  but  "  its  gift  lies  in  the  faculty  of  being  happily  in- 
spired by  a  certain  intellectual  and  spiritual  atmosphere, 
which  finds  itself  in  them."  "  This  is  the  reason  why 
creative  epochs  in  literature  are  so  rare,"  "  because,  for  the 
creation  of  a  master-work  of  literature,  two  powers  must 
concur,  the  power  of  the  moment  and  the  power  of  the 
man,  and  the  man  is  not  enough  without  the  moment." 
To  understand  the  atmosphere  on  which  a  great  writer  de- 
pends for  the  development  of  his  genius,  is  not  always 
easy.  It  requires  much  study  and  sagacity  to  find  it  out, 
much  honesty  and  zeal  to  appreciate  it,  and  often  great 
skill  to  represent  it  for  the  ready  apprehension  of  another. 
This  is  the  reason  why  the  greatest  gifts  of  genius  can  be 
so  severely  tasked  as  well  as  Avortliily  em|)loyed  in  this 
service  of  interpretation,  and  also  why  when  this  service  is 
successfully  performed,  it  invests  the  author  with  manifold 
greater  attractions  for  the  reader,  and  binds  him  to  his  in- 
terpreter by  heavy  obligations. 

There  is  also  another  sense,  perhaps  a  higher,  in  which 
the  critic  interprets  his  author,  especially  if  he  be  a  great 
dramatic  writer  who  must  outline  his  characters  by  a  few 
bokl  and  masterly  strokes,  and  manifest  their  inner  life  by 
means  of  a  few  significant  words  and  actions.  The  reader, 
without  the  aid  of  the  critic,  may  be  astonislied  by  bold 
deeds  and  be  excited  by  passionate  words,  and  yet  be  una- 


276  Books  and  Readiw/.  "  [Chap.  xvii. 

ble  except  with  this  aid  to  penetrate  their  significance  or 
to  fill  out  what  the  poet  has  only  suggested.  We  select 
Hamlet  as  a  striking  example  of  what  we  mean.  As  we 
study  this  character,  it  seems  to  require  some  age  and 
thought  to  interpret  its  obvious  import.  Let  us  concede, 
however,  that  an  intelligent  person  however  young  can 
scarcely  follow  the  fortunes  of  the  unlucky  prince,  without 
feeling  a  saddened  sympathy  stealing  over  his  soul,  even 
while  he  is  more  and  more  perplexed  by  the  enigmatical 
character  of  much  that  he  says  and  does.  But  let  the  rea- 
der study  the  analysis  of  the  ideal  Hamlet  which  Goethe 
has  given  in  two  or  three  pages  of  Wilhelm  Meister,  and 
return  to  the  play  ;  he  will  find  it  invested  with  a  new  in- 
terest, as  well  as  enriched  with  a  deeper  significance.  If 
we  suppose  Goethe's  conception  of  Hamlet  to  be  correct,  it 
not  only  explains  the  play  as  a  whole,  but  it  also  gives  sig- 
nificance to  incidents  and  sayings  that  would  otherwise  be 
unintelligible,  if  not  offensive.  The  difficulty  in  fully  un- 
derstanding Hamlet  without  such  a  guide  is,  in  part,  as  we 
have  already  intimated,  that  his  character  is  rather  sketched 
than  completed — that  it  is  suggested  rather  than  de- 
veloped ;  and  also  that  many  readers  lack  the  experience 
of  human  life,  and  the  sagacity  to  interpret  what  they  ob- 
serve, which  are  requisite  to  comprehend  a  character  so 
complicated  and  strange.  Goethe  interprets  Hamlet  when 
he  teaches  the  reader  to  imagine  some  one  of  his  own  cir- 
cle who  has  had  an  experience  similar  to  his,  and  to  con- 
ceive what  would  be  his  conflicting  emotions,  under  a 
calamity  so  sudden  and  so  sad.  He  goes  even  further  and 
teaches  us  to  understand  the  almost  superhuman  sagacity 
of  the  poet  in  making  a  word  or  an  act,  perhajis  of  irony 
or  bitter  se«rn,  to  express  or  suggest  so  much.  For  Goethe 
to  have  interpreted  Hamlet  may  not  be  so  signal  a  proof 
of  genius  as  it  was  for  Shakspeare  to  create  him,  but  no 
man  who  could  not  also  create  coidd  have  interpreted  the 


Chap,  xvii.]      Literary  History  and  Criticism.  277 

character  so  well,  if  he  could  have  interpreted  it  at  all. 
The  acceptable  service  -which  Goethe  has  rendered  to  the 
readers  of  the  great  Dramatist  is  one  of  the  most  import- 
ant which  modern  criticism  has  achieved.  While  it  illus- 
trates the  need  which  the  reader  may  feel  of  the  critic's 
assistance,  it  exalts  the  service  to  which  the  critic  is  called. 
What  Goethe  did  for  Hamlet,  has  been  done  by  other  cri- 
tics for  many  of  the  other  characters  of  Shakspeare.  A^'^e 
know  it  is  often  said  that  some  of  the  most  distinguished 
of  these  critics  have  found  more  in  many  of  his  characters 
than  ever  Shakspeare  dreamed,  and  that  by  the  extrava- 
gance of  their  fancies  and  the  boldness  of  their  sugges- 
tions, they  have  displaced  the  originals  which  Shakspeare 
conceived.  This  may  be  conceded,  and  the  fact  still  be 
unquestioned  that  even  where  critics  err  by  overdoing, 
they  stimulate  to  healthful  inquiiy  and  to  wakeful  earn- 
estness. Certainly,  the  modern  world  would  lose  much  of 
stimulating  and  instructive  reading,  if  it  should  lose  M'hat 
Coleridge,  and  Hazlitt,  and  Mrs.  Jameson;  what  Ulrici, 
Schlegel,  and  Gervinus;  what  Henry  Eecd,  H.  N.  Hudson, 
and  Richard  Grant  White  have  written  upon  the  great 
English  Dramatist. 

3f  the  gifted  critic  sometimes  errs  or  overdoes  by  substi- 
tuting his  own  fancies  for  the  thoughts  of  his  author,  he 
more  than  compensates  for  this,  by  making  the  suggestions 
of  the  author  a  text  for  brilliant  thoughts  of  his  own.  As 
there  is  nothing  more  stimulating  to  a  man  of  genius  than 
the  works  of  another  man  of  genius,  so  it  should  not  be 
surprising  that  the  criticisms  upon  a  great  writer  of  such 
thinkers  as  Coleridge,  Goethe,  and  Sainte  Beuve,  may  con- 
tain the  most  valuable  and  inspiring  original  contributions. 
The  thoughts  need  be  none  the  less  original  because  they 
ai-e  excited  by  the  thoughts  of  another,  any  more  than  the 
tlioughts  of  two  persons  who  are  brilliant  in  conversation, 
are  less  original  or  less  weighty  because  the  one  stimulates 


278  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xvit, 

or  arouses  the  other.  The  encounter,  when  the  critic  meets 
his  author,  may  not  be  unlike  that  which  the  witty- 
Thomas  Fuller  records  of  Shakspcare  and  Bon  Jonson,  in 
the  words  which,  though  familiar,  will  bear  repeating: 
"  Many  were  the  wit-combats  between  him  and  Ben  Jon- 
son, which  two  I  beheld  like  a  Spanish  great  galleon  and 
an  English  man-of-war.  Master  Jonson,  like  the  former, 
was  built  far  higher  in  learning;  solid  but  slow  in  his  per- 
formances. Shakspcare,  like  an  English  man-of-war, 
lesser  in  bulk,  but  lighter  in  sailing,  could  turn  with  all 
tides,  and  take  advantage  of  all  winds,  by  the  quickness  of 
his  wit  and  invention." 

Sixth :  Philosophical  criticism  not  only  interprets  an 
author  by  means  of  his  times,  but  it  interprets  the  times  of 
an  author  by  means  of  his  icritings.  In  other  words, 
modern  criticism  is  a  most  important  adjunct  to  history, 
and  for  that  reason  eminently  deserves  to  be  called  histori- 
cal criticism.  Not  only  must  we  know  something  of  the 
history  of  an  author's  surroundings, — xiis  atraoripiiere,  as 
Matthew  Arnold  calls  them, — in  order,  to  appreciate  more 
justly  either  the  man  or  his  works,  but  we  can  also  learn 
very  much  of  these  surroundings  by  means  of  his  writings. 
The  literature  of  a  period  is  one  of  the  most  important  ad- 
juncts to  the  story  of  its  history.  It  supplies  certain  de- 
scriptions of  information  which  no  other  sources  of  know- 
ledge can  yield.  It  stamps  and  fixes  impressions  of  much 
besides,  such  as  no  secondary  or  indirect  information  can 
possibly  imprint,  giving  those  vivid  and  life-like  images 
of  the  men  and  scenes  of  the  past  which  are  the  best  substi- 
tutes for  having  actually  lived  among  them. 

The  Ody&sey  of  Homer  is  a  fresh  and  detailed  picture 
of  the  Greek  life  in  its  golden  age.  As  we  follow  the  story 
of  the  wanderings  of  its  hero,  we  see  and  feel  how  the 
Greeks  must  have  lived  in  the  times  when  Homer  actually 
wrote, — what  they  thought,  how  they  felt,  how  they  fur- 


Chap.  XVII.]         Literary  History  and  Criticism.  279 

nislied  their  houses,  how  they  supplied  their  tables,  how 
they  cntertnined  their  guests,  how  they  regarded  their 
wives  and  ehildren,  and  in  what  esteem  they  held  their 
horses  and  dogs.  We  learn  with  what  thoughts  they 
looked  up  to  the  stars,  with  what  longing  and  admiring 
eyes  they  looked  out  on  the  neighboring  azure  sea  as  it  lay 
along  tlieir  sharp  horizon,  ever  glittering  with  its  rippling 
laughter,  and  with  what  a  shuddering  awe  they  thought 
of  the  mysterious  and  unexplored  ocean  which  extended 
beyond,  how  far  and  whither  they  knew  not.  We  are 
made  to  know  how  the  Greeks  viewed  the  present  life  in 
its  wealth  and  friendship,  its  prizes  and  honors,  its  love  of 
country  and  of  glory,  its  comforts  of  home  and  its  delights 
of  love,  and  how  they  sought  to  penetrate  into  the  life  un- 
seen, filling  it  with  the  shapes  of  beauty  and  of  terror  with 
which  their  brilliant  miythology  also  peopled  the  earth  and 
the  air.  We  visit  Greece  with  longing  expectations.  We 
rejoice  in  its  transparent  atmosphere  and  delight  in  its 
beautiful  islands  and  azure  sea.  We  admire  the  lew  rem- 
nants of  its  temples  and  shrines.  But  we  are  appalled  at 
the  misery  and  degradation  of  its  present  inhabitants,  and 
cannot  fiud  the  lively  and  polislied  Greek  whom  we  look 
for  among  the  loungers  in  the  market  places  of  Athens  or 
the  attendants  upon  its  university.  We  can  only  find  him 
as  we  study  the  comedies  of  Aristophanes.  We  look  for 
Socrates  in  the  scanty  and  starveling  groves  which  we 
fancy  may  be  haunted  by  his  shade,  but  we  can  only  find 
Socrates  where  we  find  Alcibiades  and  Plato,  in  the  dia- 
logues written  by  Plato  himself,  and  in  Xenophon's  sketches 
from  the  life.  We  go  to  the  Pnyx  to  hear  Demosthenes, 
and  to  the  Areopagus  to  listen  to  Paul,  but  it  is  only  in  the 
recorded  words  of  each  that  we  can  either  hear  the  orators 
or  see  their  audiences. 

We  visit  Damascus,  Syria,  and  Palestine.     Simple  his- 
tory, even  when  it  is  the  best  constructed,  and  the  most 


280  Books  and  Beading.  [Chap.  xvn. 

faithful,  can  only  giv3  us  imperfect  impressions  of  the 
people  which  once  inhabited  the  now  half  deserted  plains 
and  mountains.  The  brief,  but  graphic,  annals  of  Jewish 
patriarchs  and  kings  supply  us  only  with  the  facts  con- 
cerning the  external  life  of  the  tribes  that  once  made  these 
deserts  blossom  as  the  rose.  But  in  these  records  we  can 
neither  find  the  people  as  they  were,  nor  can  we  imagine 
how  they  felt  and  lived.  We  must  go  to  Job  to  find  the 
devout  man  of  the  desert,  the  counterpart  of  Abraham,  the 
father  of  his  people ;  but  with  Job  and  the  Odyssey  to- 
gether, we  begin  to  understand  the  monotheistic  patriarch 
of  the  East.  When  we  study  the  code  of  laws  which 
Moses  enacted,  and  the  solemn  counsels  with  which  he  en- 
forced these  laws,  we  learn  more  of  who  the  Hebrew  peo- 
ple were.  If  we  proceed  to  study  those  matchless  Psalms, 
in  which  God  was  praised  for  the  glory  of  the  heavens, 
the  beauty  of  the  stars,  the  tumult  of  the  storm  and  the 
noise  of  the  ocean  over  which  He  thundered  jvith  His  aw- 
ful voice;  the  Psalms  in  which  Plis  holiness  was  extolled, 
the  victories  of  His  leadership  were  recounted,  the  nation's 
feasts  of  thanksgiving  and  sacrifice  were  solemnized,  and 
the  glory  of  Jerusalem  was  fitly  set  forth  ;  in  which  also 
the  prayer  and  praise,  the  penitence  and  thankfulness  of 
the  individual  worshiper  were  expressed  in  words  which 
have  never  been  surpassed ;  then,  and  not  till  then,  do  we 
learn,  in  the  spirit  of  Hebrew  poetry,  the  spirit  of  the 
Hebrew  people.  If  we  follow  on  through  the  sad  lamenta- 
tions of  their  prophets,  their  fierce  rebukes,  their  faithful 
admonitions,  and  their  glorious  predictions,  we  learn  to 
know  this  people  more  perfectly  in  their  evil  as  well  as 
their  good,  in  their  sad  perverseness,  as  well  as  their  many 
repentings  and  frequent  returns  to  God.  Moreover  it  is 
only  in  all  these  treasures  of  poetic  and  prophetic  litera- 
turCj  that  we  trace  the  rising  of  the  star  of  promise,  till  it 


Chap,  xvii.]  Literary  History  and  Criticism.  281 

stood  at  last  over  Bethlehem,  and  heralded  the  angelic 
shouts  of  glad  tidings  of  great  joy. 

We  wander  lingering  from  Bethlehem  to  Calvary, 

— in  those  holy  fields. 
Over  whose  acres  walked  those  blessed  feet, 
Which,  eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  were  nailed 
For  our  advantage  to  the  bitter  cross, 

studying  the  path  in  which  those  footsteps  lie,  if  perhaps 
we  may  catch  some  vision  of  the  present  Jesus.  But  both 
in  Bethlehem  and  at  the  Sepulchre,  we  hear  the  answer  to 
our  longings.  He  is  not  here,  He  is  risen.  As  we  read 
the  history  which  records  His  deeds,  we  cannot  bring  Him 
back  to  the  desolate  land  which  He  once  inhabited.  But 
as  we  read  His  own  words  in  the  most  precious  legacy 
which  human  literature  has  preserved,  we  seem  to  see  Him 
living — and  while  we  worship  at  His  feet,  we  rejoice  .in 
His  benediction. 

When  we  go  to  Rome  and  Italy  we  cannot  find  the  old 
Romans,  however  earnestly  we  search  for  them  in  their 
sepulchres,  in  the  Forum,  or  the  Coliseum,  or  however 
sanguinely  we  look  to  see  them  repeated  in  the  population 
which  now  inhabits  the  Eternal  city.  We  cannot  revive 
them  to  our  imaginations  by  the  unaided  force  of  all  the 
suggestions  which  haimt  the  Tiber  or  the  Appian  way. 
We  find  them  only  as  we  consult  the  letters  of  Cicero  and 
of  Pliny,  and  the  poems  of  Virgil,  of  Lucan,  and  of  Lu- 
cretius, or  study  the  treatises  of  Seneca  and  Antoninus. 
The  old  Roman  life  re-appears  in  the  incidental  records 
of  their  thoughts  and  feelings,  which  we  find  in  these  and 
similar  writers,  and  in  the  incidental  glimpses  which  they 
give  of  the  life  of  the  people  with  whom  they  had  to  do. 
As  we  compare  ancient  literature  with  modern,  we  reach 
the  confident  conclusion,  that  the  virtues  of  the  ancients 
were  patriotism,  hospitality,  friendship,  and  honor,  all  re- 
stricted in  their  sphere,  however  noble  in  kind,  and  limited 


282  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xvii. 

to  certain  external  duties  and  elevated  sentiments.  We 
miss  entirely  the  self-denying  love  of  man  as  man,  which 
Christianity  sanctioned  by  the  most  characteristic  act  of 
its  great  founder.  The  Christian  love  to  enemies,  the 
Christian  forgiveness  of  injuries,  its  sweet  and  contented 
submission  to  adversity,  its  patience  under  undeserved 
wrong,  the  overcoming  evil  with  good — all  being  special 
virtues  of  the  temper,  springing  from  charity  as  the  bond 
of  their  perfectness — were  not  known,  we  do  not  say  in 
the  practice  of  the  ancients,  but  they  were  not  honored  as 
elements  of  their  ideal.  All  this  we  know  from  their  lit- 
erature when  it  is  critically  studied  as  a  trustworthy  re- 
presentation of  the  people's  inner  life.  From  the  litera- 
ture of  the  ancients  we  learn  with  satisfactory  certainty  the 
place  which  woman  held  in  the  house  and  in  society.  We 
know  that  in  the  esteem  and  aifections  of  the  best  and  the 
purest,  she  did  not  hold  the  place,  with  the  rarest  excep- 
tions, which  she  now  holds  in  the  confidence  and  love  of 
myriads  of  households  and  of  hearts.  The  ideal  man  of 
the  noblest  ancient  schools,  was  immeasurably  inferior  to 
the  ideal  man  of  multitudes  of  humble  and  uncultured 
Christian  communities.  We  learn  all  this  from  what  is 
plainly  manifest  in  the  literatures  of  the  ancient  and 
modern  worlds. 

The  importance  of  the  critical  study  of  literature  as  an- 
aid  to  the  interpretation  of  modern  histf)ry  is  equally  mani- 
fest. It  is  even  more  so,  because  the  appliances  which  lit- 
erature furnishes  for  the  exposition  of  many  j)criods  of  mo- 
dern history  are  so  much  more  varied  than  those  which  il- 
lustrate the  best  known  of  any  of  the  ancient  generations. 
The  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth  is  reflected,  as  in  a  magic 
mirror,  in  the  plays  and  letters,  in  the  sermons  and  diaries 
of  her  time.  The  times  of  the  memorable  conflict  between 
Puritan  and  Cavalier  can  be  almost  literally  reproduced 
from  the  direct  and  indirect  sketches  which  were  made  of 


Chap.  XVII.]       Literary  History  and  Criticism.  283 

its  various  characters  and  scenes,  in  the  manifold  forms  of 
literature  which  were  photographed  from  the  life  by  un- 
conscious artists.  The  writings  of  Swift  and  his  compeers, 
the  plays  and  songs  of  the  hour,  libels  and  street  placards, 
sermons  and  letters — all  these  were  materials  which  en- 
abled Thackeray,  with  the  rarest  critical  discernment  to  re- 
construct his  admirable  historical  tale  of  the  days  of  Queen 
Anne.  It  was  out  of  the  literature  of  their  several  periods 
that  Scott  was  able  almost  to  recreate  these  periods. 

The  service  of  the  critical  study  of  literature  is  as  great 
to  the  reader  of  history  as  it  is  to  the  writer.  No  one  can 
fully  appreciate  the  history  of  any  peojDle  or  of  any  period 
-by  relying  on  the  descriptions  and  judgments  of  others. 
He  must,  in  a  certain  sense,  construct  this  history  for  him- 
self, even  when  he  reads  it  as  constructed  by  others ;  at 
least  he  must  reinforce  the  assertions,  and  verify  the  con- 
clusions of  his  authorities,  by  looking  for  himself,  so  far 
as  he  may,  upon  the  people  and  events  described,  and  doing 
this  face  to  face.  This  he  can  in  no  way  do  so  effectually 
as  by  studying  their  literature.  But  in  order  to  do  this 
with  the  most  eminent  success,  most  readers  require  the  aid 
of  the  philosophical  critic,  to  explain  the  relations  of  litera- 
ture to  history. 

Seventh.  The  critical  study  of  literature  is  of  service  to 
biography  as  well  as  to  history.  If  we  can  read  the  times 
of  an  author  by  the  pictures  of  them  which  he  reflects  in 
his  writings,  much  more  can  we  learn  the  character  of  the 
author  himself  by  the  sentiments  and  feelings  with  which 
he  reproduces  his  times,  as  they  are  seen  in  the  shadings 
and  colors  with  which  he  represents  them.  If  a  man's  pri- 
vate letters  are  often  the  best  materials  out  of  which  to  con- 
struct his  biography,  it  should  be  remembered  that  much 
of  what  he  publishes  as  his  works  are  in  some  sense  his 
public  letters,  his  epistles  to  the  world  and  to  posterity,  as 
these  convey,  not  alone  what  he  professedly  aims  to  produce 


284  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xvil 

and  record,  but  often  much  more  of  what  he  unconsciously 
reveals.  Some  books  from  their  very  nature,  reveal  very 
little  of  their  author's  feelings  and  character.  But  very 
many  books  communicate  much  more,  at  times,  than  he  de- 
signs or  desires.  The  sonnets  of  Shakspeare,  the  poems  of 
Milton,  the  playful  anc'  serious  essays  of  Cowper,  the  med- 
itations of  Wordsworth,  the  passionate  outbreaks  of  Byron, 
the  vague  aspirations  of  Shelley,  and  the  prolonged  lament 
of  Tennyson,  when  skillfully  interpreted,  enable  us  to  pe- 
netrate into  the  secrets  of  their  hearts,  and  open  to  us  the 
hidden  springs  of  their  character.  It  is  the  office  of  ,the 
critic  to  discriminate  between  what  does  and  what  does  not 
express  the  man,  and  thus  to  interpret  the  man  by  many  of 
his  works ;  and  the  service  which  he  renders  to  the  reader 
is  often  of  surpassing  interest. 


CHAPTER  Xyill. 

THE  CRITICISM   OF   ENGLISH   LITERATURE. 

The  features  of  modern  criticism  which  have  been  enu- 
merated, may  suffice.  We  may  periiaps  more  profitably, 
as  well  as  more  practically,  proceed  to  consider  our  own 
literature  as  a  field  for  its  exercise.  We  may  aver  with 
confidence,  that  English  literature  furnishes  the  amplest, 
the  most  varied,  and  the  most  interesting  materials  for  the 
critic,  of  any  whether  ancient  or  modern.  It  ought  not 
to  surprise  us  that  it  should.  The  compound  structure  of 
the  language  gives  an  advantage  to  the  writer  as  well  as  to 
the  philologist,  furnishing  often  a  richer  choice  of  terms,  a 
greater  variety  of  phrases,  and  a  wider  range  of  structure, 
than  is  possible  for  any  other  modern  tongue.  That  this 
'structure  pertains  to  its  form  alone  is  true,  but  the  form  in 
this  instance  happens  to  furnish  large  capacities  for  the  em- 
bodiment and  expressions  of  a  rich  and  manifold  material. 
This  material  is  rich  and  manifold,  chiefly,  because  its  peo- 
ple have  been  free,  have  been  bold  in  thought,  and  earnest 
in  feeling.  They  have  been  moved  and  stirred  by  the 
largest  spirit  of  adventure  in  commerce,  in  war,  in  coloniz- 
ing, and  in  self-government.  They  have  had  an  intense 
religious  spirit,  manifested  in  a  sufficient  variety  of  forms, 
and  inspiring  to  fervent  faith,  to  martyr-like  boldness,  and 
to  consistent  and  heroic  self-denial.  They  have  had  ear- 
nest political  struggles /or  the  crown  and  against  the  crown 
— -for  the  liberty  of  the  commons,  and  the  traditional  rights 
of  the  people,  and  for  the  divine  right  of  kings,  and  the 
dignity  of  the  royal  prerogative.     They  have  had  sacred 

285 


286  Boohs  and  Beading.  [Chap.  xviii 

and  happy  homes, — fireside  enjoyments  Imllowcd  by  domes- 
tic love,  and  made  doubly  sacred  and  dear  by  ancestral  re- 
collections. They  have  had  exhaustless  and  irrepressible 
humor — an  inborn  love  of  noisy  hilarity,  an  infinitude  of 
original  characters  to  provoke  this  humor,  and  inspire  the 
songs  of  a  people  ever  ready  to  be  excited  to  uproarious 
merriment.  They  have  had  a  free  press — a  free  pulpit, 
and  free  newspapers,  in  spite  of  occasional  censorship, 
packed  juries,  and  venal  judges. 

If  we  trace  the  history  and  characteristics  of  this  litera- 
ture we  may  well  be  amazed  at  its  varied  riches,  and  be 
excited  to  avail  ourselves  of  its  inviting  stores  by  a  more 
earnest  as  well  as  a  more  critical  use  of  its  ample  resources. 

We  begin  with  Chaucer.  In  the  Canterbury  Tales  we 
have  a  worthy  counterpart  to  the  Odyssey,  giving  as  they 
do,  a  graphic  and  varied  picture  of  the  many-sided  life, 
and  the  strongly  marked  characteristics  which,  even  at  tliis 
very  early  periorl,  were  manifest  among  the  English  peo- 
ple. Indeed  we  could  not  desire  a  more  satisfactory  illus- 
tration of  the  truth  and  justice  of  all  that  we  have  said  of 
literature  as  a  field  for  the  study  of  history,  than  is  fur- 
nished in  these  tales  of  Chaucer.  The  attentive  reader 
cannot  fail  to  observe  how  eminently  true  it  is  that  the 
times  illustrate  the  author  and  the  author  illustrates  his 
times;  how,  through  these  tales,  we  have  a  direct  insight 
into  the  manners  and  the  sentiments,  the  customs  and  the 
philosophy  of  our  ancestors,  as  they  were,  and  as  they  lived 
some  five  hundred  years  ago.  We  have  only  to  loolc 
througli  tliis  magic  show  glass,  and  we  are  transported  buck 
to  the  very  scenes  which  were  then  transacted,  and  those 
early  times  live  again  before  our  eyes.  It  is  not  a  lifeless 
chronicle  which  we  read,  it  is  not  a  grave  description,  not 
a  careful  analysis,  not  a  logical  generalization,  such  as  the 
annalist  and  the  historian  furnish.  It  is  not  even  an  his- 
torical novel  in  which  a  writer  of  a  later  period  has  endea- 


Chap.  XVIII.]     The  Criticism  of  English  Literature.         287 

vored  to  recreate  the  times  as  he  conceived  them,  but  it  is 
an  unconscious  painter  of  the  men  and  the  manners  with 
which  he  was  conversant.  How  strong  and  bold-hearted 
were  those  men,  how  natural  their  manners, — how  brave 
and  sincere,  how  humorous  and  tender-hearted,  how  bene- 
ficent and  devout  were  the  sentiments  which  they  express. 
After  a  long  and  somewhat  dreary  interval,  we  come  to 
the  age  of  Shakspeare,  and  not  to  the  age  of  Shakspeare 
alone,  but  to  that  of  Spenser  and  Sidney,  and  Raleigh,  and 
Hooker,  and  Bacon,  and  Ben  Jonson,  and  the  train  of  dra- 
matists of  whom  Jonson  was  the  representative  and  the  head. 
We  call  this  truly  the  golden  age  of  English  literature, 
and  we  ask  what  agencies  could  have  produced  such  writers 
as  these  ?  We  find  our  answer — first  in  the  original  force 
of  the  English  stock,  that  under  all  the  burdens  of  royal 
and  church  ly  oppression,  had  never  been  corrupted  or 
crushed,  but  had  held  its  own  in  the  halls  of  the  gentry, 
the  farm-houses  of  the  yeomen,  and  the  cottages  of  the 
laborers.  Tins  vital  force^  was  marvellously  aroused  by 
the  Protestant  Reformation,  and  when  after  many  struggles, 
a  Protestant  Queen  had  come  to  the  throne,  it  experienced, 
as  it  were,  a  thrill  of  newly  created  energy.  Foreign  wars, 
commercial  adventures,  romantic  discoveries,  all  united  to 
keep  this  young  life  excited  to  its  utmost  tension,  and  to 
move  it  by  an  inward  ferment.  The  thoughts  of  men  were 
great  in  those  times;  their  hopes  were  unbounded ;  their 
feelings  were  fervent,  their  self-confidence  was  untram- 
meled ;  their  power  of  expression  was  untamed.  They  had 
at  their -command  the  language  not  as  yet  shaped  by  critics 
or  developed  into  any  normal  structure, — a  fit  instrument 
for  the  young  giants,  rejoicing  in  their  strength,  who  were 
ready  to  use  it,  each  as  ho  would.  Could  the  reader  de- 
sire a  study  more  inviting  than  that  to  which  the  literature 
of  those  active  and  hopeful  days  invites  him  ?  Whether 
he  would  study  the  authors  or  their  times,  or  both  together, 


288  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap,  xviil 

whether  he  would  study  the  matter  or  the  form  of  litera- 
ture,— thought,  sentiment,  and  imagery,  on  the  one  hand, 
or  diction,  rhythm,  and  periodic  power  on  the  other, — he 
could  ask  for  nothing  more  exciting  or  more  rewarding 
than  what  is  furnished  here. 

The  age  <)f  Milton  follows,  and  not  of  Milton  only,  but 
of  Taylor  and  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  of  Baxter  and  Bunyan, 
of  Hobbes  and  Fuller.  Here  the  English  life — and  with 
it  English  literature — appears  in  other  forms,  more  fixed, 
and  serious,  and  grave,  but  with  not  a  whit  of  its  force 
abated,  nor  aught  of  its  fiery  energy  repressed.  Imagina- 
tion is  still  as  soaring  as  ever,  and  the  manifold  and  seem- 
ing exhaustlcss  varieties  of  diction  illustrate  the  resources 
and  the  plastic  capacities  of  the  English  language.  This 
period  was  marked  for  its  political  struggles  and  ite  reli- 
gious strifes,  for  ita  intense  feeling  and  its  strong  thinking ; 
for  its  ardent  longings  and  its  patient  endurance,  and 
above  all,  for  its  faith  in  God  and  in  man ;  and  all  these 
influences  shaped  the  literature,  as  the  literature  helped  to 
form  the  period. 

The  age  of  Dryden  followed,  and  not  of  Dryden  only, 
but  of  South,  and  Locke,  and  Boyle,  and  Newton.  It  was 
a  tamer  period,  in  wliich  accuracy  of  thought,  and  exactness 
of  language,  and  symmetry  and  conciseness  of  style,  and 
repression  of  feeling,  and  caution  in  imagery,  were  all  con- 
spicuous. It  was  an  age  of  repression  and  of  criticism,  as 
was  natural  after  the  real  and  imagined  excesses  of  princi- 
ple and  feeling  which  had  characterized  the  times  of  the 
Commonwealth, — an  age  in  which  religion  declined  and  im- 
morality was  less  restrained — an  age  of  free  thinking  and 
unbelief  whicli  were  scarcely  held  in  check  by  tlie  efforts  of 
Locke  and  Boyle.  AVitli  an  age  thus  chariictcrized  by  llie 
life  of  the  people,  the  literature  of  the  j)eriod  sympathized. 
First  of  all,  it  was  the  period  in  whi(;h  the  mtxlern  and  the 
better  English  style  was  developed  and   fixed — pre-erai- 


Chap.  XVIII.]     The  Criticism  of  English  Literature.         289 

nently  by  Dryden.  Next  criticism  itself  was  first  applied 
with  systematic  aims  and  definite  results.  In  this  Dryden 
was  also  conspicuous.  With  more  accurate  thinking  and 
careful  writing,  there  were  not  wholly  lost  the  fire  of  feeling 
and  the  splendor  of  imagination  which  had  distinguished 
the  earlier  periods. 

Then  followed  the  age  of  Pope,  and  not  of  Pope  alone, 
but  also  of  Addison,  Swift  and  Shaftesbury,  and  these  were 
closely  followed  by  Bishops  Butler,  Berkeley  and  Warbur-  ' 
ton,  by  De  Foe,  Richardson,  Fielding  and  Smollett.  It  was 
an  age  in  no  wise  distinguished  for  earnestness  or  for  faith,  an 
age  of  conventionalities,  gaiety,  and  frivolity,  an  age  of  free 
living,  and  of  free  thinking,  an  age  in  which  satire  and 
sneering  criticism  would  be  likely  to  flourish,  and  in  which 
both  were  abundant.  As  was  the  life,  such  was  the  litera- 
ture of  the  period,  with  here  and  there  an  exception.  For 
the  ease  and  felicity  of  its  prose  diction,  and  for  the  correct- 
ness and  smoothness  of  its  verse  to  the  ear — it  has  been 
called  the  Augustan  age  of  English  literature,  but  the  per- 
fection of  form  to  which  it  brought  this  literature  scantily 
compensated  for  the  loss  of  those  higher  qualities  by  which 
the  earlier  periods  had  been  distinguished. 

In  the  latter  half  of  the  same  century  there  was  a  change 
for  the  better.  This  was  the  period  of  Johnson,  and  of 
Burke,  of  Thomson,  Goldsmith,  and  Cowpcr.  The  nation- 
al life  grew  more  serious.  The  lower  classes  had  been 
moved  to  greater  religious  earnestness  by  Wesley,  White- 
field,  and  others.  The  higher  were  tired  by  the  empti- 
ness and  dissoluteness,  by  the  heartlessness  and  frivolity 
of  the  generations  before  them, — there  was  a  longing  after 
better  things,  and  to  this  longing  the  literature  of  the 
period  gave  expression  in  manifold  signs. 

Then  came  the  French  Revolution,  filling  many  hope- 
ful and  sanguine  spirits  with  ardent  enthusiasm,  and  stir- 
ring their  minds  with  inquiries  which   led  to  profounder 
19 


290  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap,  xviil. 

studies  of  the  principles  of  moral,  political,  and  theologi- 
cal truth — then  the  inevitable  reaction,  involving  strong 
repressive  measures,  and  dividing  society  into  angry  sec- 
tions,— then  the  long  and  costly  wars  of  the  Allies,  and  the 
exciting  career  of  the  first  Napoleon.  All  these  move- 
ments in  English  thought,  attended,  as  they  were,  by  the 
corrupt  demoralization  of  the  court  and  example  of  the 
last  of  the  Georges,  were  reflected  in  English  literature  as 
it  presents  itself  in  the  first  thirty  years  of  the  present  cen- 
tury. This  is  the  period  of  Scott  and  Burns,  of  Byron  and 
Shelley,  of  Coleridge  and  Southcy,  of  Wordsworth  and 
Wilson,  of  Macaulay  and  Hallam,  of  Jeffrey  and  Mackin- 
tosh. Literature  is  sharply  divided  into  opposing  schools 
— expressing  the  divided  sentiment  and  opinion  of  the 
English  nation.  Foremost  among  them  is  that  catholic 
and  comprehensive  school  which  dared  to  free  itself  from 
the  fashion  of  the  day  in  both  thought  and  diction,  and  to 
go  back  to  the  English  writers  of  the  earlier  periods, 
and  to  vindicate  Shakspeare,  and  Milton,  and  Hooker, 
and  Bacon,  from  the  neglect  into  which  they  had  fallen. 
IVIor-e  than  all,  this  school  dared  to  vindicate  for  itself  the 
liberty  to  use  all  the  resources  of  the  Englisli  language,  as 
well  as  to  sound  all  the  depths  of  English  thought  and  feel- 
ing after  the  ancient  ways.  While  in  one  direction,  as 
with  Byron,  literature  is  passionate  and  Satanic,  and  in 
another,  as  with  Shelley,  it  is  blasphemous  and  atheistic ; 
while  in  Scott  it  is  brilliantly  romantic ;  while  with  Hal- 
lam and  Mackintosh  it  is  solidly  earnest ;  with  Coleridge, 
Wordsworth,  Southcy,  and  Wilson,  it  is  more  thoughtful 
and  affectionate,  it  is  mindful  of  nature  and  of  God,  and 
above  all  it  dares  to  be  true  to  whatever  is  best  in  hu- 
man character  and  aspiration.  With  this  school  and  its 
awakened  interest  in  all  the  older  literature,  there  arose 
also  the  spirit  of  historical  and  philosophical  criticism, 
which  has  very  largely  contributed  to  tlie  many-sided,  and 


Chap.  XVIII.]    The  Cnticism  of  English  Literature.  291 

in  general,  the  elevated  literature  of  the  present  genera- 
tion. Of  this  recent  literature  we  need  not  write,  for  to 
attempt  to  characterize  it  would  lead  us  beyond  our  limits. 

This  English  literature  is  our  heritage,  and  to  study  it 
should  be  our  delight  and  occupation.  That  it  may  be  a 
delight,  it  must  be,  in  some  sense,  an  occupation.  If  we 
are  to  judge  of  it  in  a  truly  critical  spirit, — if  we  are  to 
understand  historically  its  authors  and  the  times  in  which 
they  lived — if  we  are  to  judge  of  it  philosophically,  and  to 
read  intelligently  its  graver  writers  of  the  past,  or  the 
more  novel  and  fresher  of  the  present, — we  must  read  it 
earnestly  and  comprehensively ;  we  must  make  it  our 
study — not  a  study  that  is  painful  or  repulsive — but  one 
that  is  patient,  systematic,  and  earnest. 

English  literature  when  once  it  has  become  a  familiar 
field  of  intelligent  study,  brings  this  advantage,  that  it  is  a 
field  which  the  student  will  never  be  able  and  never  will 
desire  to  desert.  To  him  who  has  learned  to  read  aright, 
every  Aveek  will  bring  some  fresh  tale,  or  poem,  or  essay, 
or  history  ;  every  season  will  introduce  some  fresh  author, 
summoning  the  reader  to  a  new  feast  of  delight,  which 
will  be  none  the  less  keenly  enjoyed,  because  it  is  enjoyed 
with  a  chastened  taste,  and  is  judged  with  critical  appre- 
ciation. All  the  life-long,  amid  its  cares  and  its  sorrows, 
its  employments  and  its  leisure,  there  will  be  at  hand  a 
capacity  and  a  taste  for  those  satisfying  and  elevating  plea- 
sures,— which  instruct  while  they  delight, — which  lead  us 
upwards  to  hcaveu,  while  they  make  us  content  with  the 
earth.  No  class  of  habits  that  are  purely  intellectual  can 
possibly  enter  so  largely  into  our  happiness  for  life,  as 
those  habits  of  reading  with  discrimination  and  with  ardor, 
which  are  formed  by  abundant  studies  in  the  history  and 
criticism  of  English  literature. 

The  appliances  for  such  studies  are  ample  and  accessible, 


292  Books  and  Beading.  [Chap,  xviii. 

and  they  are  likely  constantly  to  increase.  We  have  R. 
Chambers'  Cyclopedia  of  English  Literature,  which  is  fur- 
nished with  separate  biographical  sketches  of  the  leading 
English  authors,  and  sufficiently  copious  extracts  from  their 
works.  This  may  serve  as  a  convenient  guide  and  refer- 
ence book,  after  which  to  mark  and  map  out  one's  journey. 
Dr.  G.  L.  Craik's  compendious  History  of  English  Litera- 
ture and  of  tlie  English  Language  from  tlie  Norman  Con- 
quest, is  more  learned  and  critical,  while  it  is  unequal  in  its 
character,  some  portions  being  skillfully  and  carefully 
written,  and  others  being  hastily  and  superficially  sketched. 
Its  estimates  of  authors  and  its  tone  are  in  general  very 
ctmdid  and  judicious.  Abraham  Mills'  Literature  and 
Literary  Men  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  is  a  well  con- 
sidered and  trustworthy  book.  H.  Morley's  two  volumes, 
English  Writers  before  Chaucer,  From  Chaucer  to  Dun- 
bar, are  far  more  learned,  and  the  work  when  coni])lete 
bids  fair  to  be  an  encyclopedia  of  learned  criticism  in  the 
literature  of  England.  S.  A.  Allibone's  Critical  Dictiona- 
ry of  English  Literature  and  British  and  American  Authors 
is  at  once  the  most  extensive  and  complete  reference  book 
for  facts  and  dates  and  critical  estimates,  that  can  be  found 
in  any  language.  Special  editions  of  the  earlier  poets, 
as  Cliaucer  and  Spenser,  are  now  accessible ;  also  of  single 
poems  and  plays  of  the  earlier  writers,  which  are  -designed 
for  school  purposes,  and  for  the  general  reader.  Cheaj) 
reprints  of  the  best  single  works  of  tlie  older  writers,  as 
Arber^s  Reprints  and  The  Baj/ard  Sericj^  promise  to  dif- 
fuse more  extensively  a  fciste  for  reading  of  this  kind,  by 
making  it  possible  for  every  one  to  gratify  it.  The  ]>ubli- 
cations  of  tlie  early  English  Text  Society  are  doing  the 
same  service  for  scholars.  B.  Tauchnitz's  Fire  Centuries 
of  English  Jjitcrature  is  a  very  instructive  selection.  J.  P. 
Collier's  EarJiff^nglish  lAterature  is  criti<'al  and  able.  E. 
A.  and  S.  L.  Duykinck's  Cyclopedia  of  American  Literal 


Chap.  XVIII.]    The  Criticism  of  Eiiglvih  LitercUare.         293 

ture  is  carefully  aud  faithfully  prepared,  and  is  a  classical 
work  of  reference  and  authority.  C.  D.  Cleveland's  Man- 
uals, entitled  A  Compendium  of  English  Literature,  Eng- 
lish Literature  of  the  Idth  Century,  and  A  Compendium  of 
American  Literaiure,  as  well  as  his  edition  of  Milton's  Po- 
etical  Worhs  with  a  verbal  index,  are  very  convenient  and 
useful  books,  which  are  wisely  used  in  many  seminaries, 
and  are  good  substitutes  for  the  more  bulky  works  of  re- 
ference which  we  have  cited.  Thomas  B.  Shaw's  Complete 
3Ianual  of  English  Literature,  with  a  volume  of  selections 
from  English  authors,  may  be  confidently  recommended  as 
compact  and  well  prepared  volumes ;  also  Wm.  Spalding's 
History  of  English  Literature.  The  same  is  true  of  An- 
Qus's  Hand-book  of  English  Literature,  and  Specimens  of 
English  Literature.  Prof.  Henry  N.  Day's  Introduction  to 
English  Literature  may  be  safely  trusted  as  scholarly  and 
ingenious.  Thomas  xirnold's  Manual  of  English  Literature 
Historical  and  Critical,  is  a  solid  and  judicious  history,  such 
as  we  should  expect  from  a  son  of  the  genial  and  loving 
critic  who  was  once  master  of  Rugby.  H.  Hallam's  In- 
troduction to  the  Literature  of  Europe  is  always  judicious 
and  often  full  in  its  notices  of  English  authors.  In  all  the 
general  Encyclopedias,  the  biography  and  bibliography  and 
criticism  of  English  and  American  authors  is  usually  co- 
piously given. 

In  what  is  called  the  higher  criticism  of  literature,  as  has 
been  already  intimated,  our  own  language  is  in  some  re- 
s])ects  deficient.  In  others  it  is  abundantly  supplied.  Sir 
Philip  Sidney's  Defence  of  Poesie  is  worthy  of  a  writer 
who  had  a  poet's  phantasy  and  a  critic's  delicacy  of  discrim- 
ination. "With  the  exception  of  Sidney,  Dryden  is  the  ear- 
liest critic  who  rose  above  the  mere  teclinics  of  form  and 
aimed  to  be  at  once  just  and  gonial,  but  Dryden's  criticisms 
are  too  brief  and  limited  to  render  any  satisfactory  service. 
Addison's  Papers  in  The  Spectator  upon  Milton's  Paradise 


294  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Cuap.xviii. 

• 

Lost  arc  examples  of  a  -well  intended  attempt  to  attain"  to 
something  higher  in  criticism  than  could  easily  be  achieved 
in  those  times.  Samuel  Johnson  was  an  omnivorous  as  well 
as  an  appreciative  reader  and  a  discriminating  critic.  His 
Lives  of  the  Poets,  his  remarks  upon  writers  in  the  Ram- 
bler, and  his  familiar  talks  concerning  them  which  are 
recorded  by  Bos  well,  are  fraught  with  good  sense  and  not 
wanting  in  discrimination,  but  his  comprehension  of  the 
aims  of  criticism  was  limited,  and  his  standard  was  in  many 
respects  conventional.  The  so-called  British  Essayists  con- 
tain more  or  less  of  criticism  upon  standard  and  current 
writers,  which  certainly  did  not  rise  above  that  of  Johnson 
and  Addison.  The  Gentleman^ s  Magazine  and  the  other 
monthlies,  with  Dodsley's  Annual  Register,  neither  aimed 
at,  nor  attained  to  anything  better. 

The  establishment  of  the  Quarterly  Reviews  within  the 
present  century  gave  a  powerful  impulse  to  the  critical  ex- 
amination of  books  and  the  critical  study  of  literature, 
opening  as  they  did  an  opportunity  for  some  of  the  ablest 
critics  of  their  time,  to  express  their  opinions  upon  the  lead- 
ing authors  of  the  day.  The  time  of  the  establishment  of 
the  first  was  nearly  coincident  with  the  awakening  in 
Great  Britain  of  the  ncAV  and  better  criticism,  and  these  re- 
views were  at  once  the  cause  and  the  eifect  of  this  awak- 
ened spirit.  Sir  Francis  Jeffrey,  Sydney  Smith,  Sir  James 
Mackintosh,  Lord  Brougham,  Lord  Macaulay,  Robert 
Southey,  and  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Sir  James  Stephen  and 
many  others  liave  contributed  critical  papers  of  surpassing 
ability  to  some  one  of  the  leading  British  Reviews.  But 
most  of  these  reviews  were  conducted  in  a  political  as  well 
.  as  a  literary  spirit,  and  many  of  their  best  critical  papers 
are  written  in  a  tone  that  is  ambitious  of  smartgcss  and 
effect  in  the  forms  of  expression,  rather  than  of  justice  and 
candor  in  their  estimates  of  authors  and  tlieir  works. 
In   later  years  this  partisan  feeling  has  been  greatly 


Chap.  XVIII.]       The  Cnticism  of  English  Literature.        295 

softened,  and  many  of  the  critical  papers  in  these  reviews 
have  been  composed  in  the  spirit  of  eminent  fairness  and 
honor.  A  general  feeling  of  homage  to  public  justice  has 
gained  a  strong  hold  of  many  of  the  leading  minds  in  Eng- 
land and  America,  and  the  trenchant  and  slashing  charac- 
ter of  a  review  does  not  always  save  its  injustice  and  par- 
tiality from  general  reprobation ;  much  less  does  it  com- 
mand as  formerly  almost  universal  praise.  While  it  is  true 
that  at  present  the  leading  English  Quarterlies  do  not 
maintain  that  exclusive  prominence  in  the  field  of  criticism 
which  they  formerly  held,  they  are  still  very  ably  conducted 
and  contain  many  papers  of  masterly  superiority  from  the 
foremost  men  of  the  present  time. 

The  better  criticism  of  England  and  America,  as  we 
have  already  explained,  was  either  inspired  from  Germany, 
or  it  grew  up  with  that  interest  in  German  literature 
which  forced  the  English  critics  to  confess  that  in  some 
things  England  might  learn  from  the  continent.  The 
writings  of  the  Schlegels  were  early  translated  and  read  in 
the  English  language.  Previous  to  this  time,  however, 
Wordsworth  had  written  the  profound,  and  in  many  re- 
spects, just  criticisms  upon  Poetry  which  are  found  in  his 
prefaces,  appendix  and  postscript  to  the  earlier  editions  of 
his  Lyrical  Ballads.  Coleridge  also,  soon  began  to  astonish 
the  literary  world  by  his  public  lectures  upon  Shakspeare, 
and  by  the  bold  and  comprehensive  criticisms  which  are 
to  be  found  in  his  Biographia  Literaria,  and  his  occasional 
contributions  to  periodical  literature.  His  conversations 
with  many  of  the  leading  writers  and  critics  of  his  time, 
were  stimulating  and  attractive,  and  did  much  to  create  a 
new  school  of  sympathetic  and  enlightened  admirers  for  the 
best,  and  till  then,  much  neglected  older  English  writers. 
The  Retrospective  Review,  a  quarterly  devoted  exclusively 
to  the  criticism  and  history  of  the  earlier  English  writers 
exercised  a  powerful  influence  for  good.    The  series  is  an  in- 


296  BooJcs  and  Beading.  [Chap.  xviii. 

valuable  acquisition  to  English  critical  literature.  Walter 
Savage  liandor,  in  his  Imaginary  Conversations,  taught  a 
few  select  but  admiring  readers  what  it  is  to  seek  to  put 
one's  self  in  the  place  of  a  great  writer  and  a  great  mind 
of  another  nation,  and  of  other  times.  Prof.  John  Wilson, 
better  known  as  Christopher  North,  invested  criticism  it- 
self with  the  dignity  and  interest  of  original  creation,  by 
filling  his  Nodes  Ambrosiance,  and  other  papers  in  Black- 
wood's Magazine  with  the  most  enthusiastic  and  genial 
criticisms  that  ever  proceeded  from  an  English  pen.  W. 
Hazlitt,  in  spite  of  his  prejudices,  gave  many  examples  of 
a  discriminating  appreciation. of  the  older  and  of  contem- 
poraneous writers.  Leigh  Hunt  did  the  same  with  a  far 
more  loving  spirit.  Mrs.  Jameson  wrote  a  whole  theory 
of  the  varieties  of  female  character  in  her  criticisms  of  the 
female  personages  of  Shakspeare,  entitled  Characterhtics 
of  Women.  Thomas  Carlyle  almost  ])egan  his  literary  life 
by  a  delightful  article  on  Burns,  in  the  Edinburgh  Review, 
in  whic^i,  for  once,  he  wrote  English  as  other  people  do. 
Thoma^De  Quincey  through  his  multitudinous  papers  of 
a  critical  and  gossiping  character,  has  done  much  to  stimu- 
late and  to  gratify  interest  and  curiosity  in  the  literary  men 
of  his  times.  Hartley  Coleridge  has,  if  possible,  surpassed 
his  father  in  his  sagacious  and  well-balanced,  yet  warm 
and  hearty  judgments  of  his  favorite  authors.  Thackeray's 
Lectures  on  the  English  Ilamorists  luis  the  double  merit  of 
opening  a  new  vein  and  working  it  successfully.  The 
elder  D'Israeli  has  done  not  a  little  to  interest  the  public 
in  literature  and  in  authors  by  the  miscellaneous  contribu- 
tions contained  in  his  Curiosities  of  Literature,  hia  Amenities 
of  Literature,  and  his  more  methodical  essay  on  the 
Literary  Character.  N.  Drake's  Essays,  Memorials  of 
Shakspeare,  and  Shakspeare  and  his  Times,  arc  worth 
consulting,  at  least,  as  showing  one  step  in  the  transition 
to  a  better  style  of  criticism.     Meanwhile,  the  excellent 


Chap.  XVIII.]    The,  Criticism  of  English  Literature.         297 

work  upon  Shakspeare  of  the  estimable  and  industrious 
Hermann  Ulrici  has- been  made  kuoAvn  to  the  English  jjeo- 
ple.  Goethe  has  been  extensively  read  by  English  littera- 
teurs who  have  imbibed  his  spirit,  and  been  taught  by  his 
example.  The  extensive  school  of  German  historians  and 
critics  of  their  native  literature,  has  also  become  familiar 
to  not  a  few  English  ajtid  Americans,  and  inspired  them 
with  a  laudable  desire  to  imitate  their  example  in  dealing 
with  their  own  writers. 

The  French  have  also  taught  something  in  respect  to 
criticism.  The  comprehensive  work  of  H.  Taine  upon 
English  Literature,  and  his  other  works  of  art-criticism 
are  genial,  and  almost  recreative.  The  appreciative  and 
subtle,  the  acute  yet  always  civilized  Sainte  JBeuve  has  en- 
forced by  abundant  and  attractive  examples,  the  impression 
of  what  criticism  may  and  ought  to  become.  Matthew 
Arnold  has  inculcated  these  same  lessons  in  his  Essay  in 
Criticism ;  Culture  and  Anarchy ;  On  the  Study  of  Celtic 
Literature,  better  sometimes  by  his  precepts  than  by  his  own 
practice.  Interesting  examples  of  what  criticism  may  and 
ought  to  be  are  to  be  found  in  the  Hours  with  the  Mystics  by 
the  lamented  R.  A.  Vaughan,  in  the  Prefaces  and  notes  of 
Henry  Taylor,  as  well  as  in  his  Notes  on  Books,  and  in  the 
Lublin  Afternoon  Lectures  upon  Literature  and  Art  which 
have  now  reached  their  fifth  annual  volume.  Indeed  there 
are  few  volumes  in  the  English  language  which  are  better- 
fitted  to  inspire  and  instruct  the  student  of  literature  and 
of  criticism,  than  the  volumes  of  this  series,  or  which  de- 
serve to  be  more  generally  known.  Prof.  David  Masson  is 
deserving  of  especial  notice  for  his  excellent  volume  The 
British  Novelists,  etc.j  to  which  we  have  previously  referred. 
His  Life  of  Hilton,  of  which  one  volume  only  has  been 
published,  is  a  mine  of  critical  and  historical  research  on 
its  illustrious  subject  and  his  times.  His  Recent  British 
Philosophy  is  a  contribution  to  literary  as  well  as  philoso- 


298  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xvrii. 

phical  criticism.  Prof.  J.  C.  Shairp's  Studies  in  Poetry 
and  Philosophy  are  genial  and  discriminating.  E.  S.  Dal- 
las, under  the  enigmatical  title  of  Tlie  Gay  Science,  has 
pnblished  a  work,  which  thongh  it  contains  many  caprices 
and  oddities,  is  yet  of  rare  interest  so  far  as  it  treats  of 
the  principles  which  are  fundamental  to  the  critical  en- 
joyment of  literature.  F.  W.*  Newman  On  Homeric 
Tramdation  and  Matthew  Arnold's  papers  on  the  same 
topic,  are  instructive  and  stimulating.  F.  W.  Newman's 
3IisceUanies  contains  a  series  of  Lectures  on  Poetry  to  which 
we  have  referred.  Guesses  at  Truth,  The  Oxford,  Cam- 
hridge  and  Edinburgh  Essays,  Peter's  Letters  to  his  Kins- 
folk, Dr.  J.  Brown's  Ilorw  Suhsecivoi — better  known 
among  us  as  Spare  Hours — contain  much  that  is  suggestive 
and  inspiring  to  the  critic.  To  a  very  large  extent  tlie 
Biographies  of  literary  men  include  criticisms  on  their 
works  and  those  of  their  contemporaries,  and  some  of  the 
most  interesting  criticisms  in  the  language  are  found  in 
the  familiar  letters  of  distinguished  persons  concerning  the 
worlvS  and  authors  of  the  season  and  the  week  while  each 
was  the  novelty  of  the  hour. 

In  the  United  States,  literary  activity  has  to  a  large  ex- 
tent taken  tlie  form  of  literary  criticism.  We  have  had 
critics  of  the  old  school  and  of  the  new.  Among  those  of 
the  old  are  the  prominent  contributors  to  the  North  Amer- 
ican Review,  as  Alexander  and  Edward  Everett,  the 
brothers  AV.  Si  O.  and  0.  W.  B.  Pcabody,  also  Rev.  Pro- 
fessor A.  P.  Pcabody,  Prescott  the  historian,  George  El- 
lis, Francis  Bowen,  and  scores  of  others.  Of  the  new 
or  modern  school  the  following  are  prominent:  Henry 
Reed,  Horace  Binney  AVallace,  Orestes  A.  Brownson,  Mar- 
garet Fuller  O.^soli,  George  Ripley,  H.  T.  Tuckerinan, 
E.  P.  Whipple,  Richard  Grant  White,  Henry  N.  Hud- 
son and  James  Ruasell  Lowell.  JNFr.  IJeed  is  conspicu- 
ous  for   his    labors   on   Wordsworth    and   Shakspeare — 


Chap.  XVIII.]    The  Criticism  of  English  Literature.         299 

Mr.  Wallace  for  his  spirited  criticisms  upon  art  and  phi- 
losophy— Mr.  Ripley  for  the  very  elaborate  and  genial  lit~ 
erary  notices  which  have  formed  so  conspiciious  a  feature 
in  the  New  York  Tribune  for  so  many  years — Mr.  Brown- 
son  for  the  trenchant  and  aggressive  review  which  was  for 
so  many  years  sustained  by  his  name — Margaret  Fuller 
Ossoli  for  an  enthusiasm  which  was  almost  genius — Mr. 
Tuckerman  for  the  faithful  and  patient  labor  which  has 
been  bestowed  on  so  many  literary  and  art  topics — Mr. 
Whipple  for  the  careful  research  and  elaboration  of  his 
analyses  and  delineations,  especially  those  in  his  Lectures 
on  the  Literature  of  the  Age  of  Elizabeth — Mr.  Hudson  for 
his  knowledge  of,  and  his  enthusiasm  for  Shakspeare  and 
his  vigorous  way  of  putting  his  thoughts — Mr.  White  for 
his  many  explorations  into  curious  literary  facts,  and  his 
nice  discriminations — Mr.  Lowell  for  his  masterly  though 
personal  Fable  for  Critics,  as  also  for  his  discriminating 
and  kindling  literary  papers.  We  have  by  no  means 
named  all  who  deserve  notice,  but  these  may  suffice.  The 
reader  who  has  followed  us  thus  far,  will  have  learned  still 
farther  to  seek  and  find  for  himself,  and  to  judge  what 
he  requires  better  than  we  can  judge  for  him. 

We  ought  not  in  this  connection  to  omit  all  notice  of  the 
history  and  criticism  of  the  Fine  Arts,  inasmuch  as  a  critical 
interest  in  Art  is  nearly  allied  to  a  taste  for  literature. 
The  standard  English  authors  in  English  literature  before 
the  days  of  Ruskin  and  the  Germans,  were  Alison  on 
Taste,  Burke  On  the  Sublime  and  Beautiful,  Price  On  the 
Picturesque,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds'  Discourses,  Horace 
Walpole's  Anecdotes  of  Painting,  Lanzi's  History  of 
Paintiyig,  Vasari's  Lives  of  the  Painters,  Fuseli's  Sculp- 
tors and  Architects,  and  Hogarth's  Anrth/sis  of  Beaut?/. 
But  since  the  German  criticism  began  to  make  itself  felt 
in  Art  as  well  as  Literature,  we  have  J.Winckelmann's  His- 
tory of  Ancient  Art,  C.  O.  MUller's  Ancient  Art  and  its 


300  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.xviii. 

Remains,  F.  T.  Kugler's  Rand-book  of  Painting,  {German, 
Flemish,  and  Dutch  Schools),aho  Hand-hooh  of  Painting 
in  Italy.  More  recently  W.  LUbke's  History  of  The 
Arts,  J.  Ferguson's  Illustrated  History  of  Architecture, 
J.  H.  Parker's  Glossary  of  Terms  of  Architecture,  all  of 
the  last  four  being  abundantly  illustrated.  Following  in 
the  footsteps  of  the  Germans  we  have  A.  W.  Lindsay's 
Sketches  of  Christian  Art,  Mrs.  Jameson's  Memoirs  of 
Early  Italian  Painters,  Sacred  and  Legendary  Art,  His- 
tory of  our  Lord  in  Works  of  Art,  C.  L.  Eastlake's  Con- 
tributions to  the  Literature  of  the  Fine  Arts  and  other  kin- 
dred Avorks.  We  ought  not  to  omit  to  name  Dunlap's  His- 
tory of  the  Arts  of  Design  in  the  United  States  and  H.  T. 
Tuckerman's  Book  of  The  Artists;  nor  G.  W.  Samson's 
Art  Criticism  and  S.  Spooner's  Art  Dictionary. 

Since  John  Ruskin  first  took  the  modern  jv'orld  by 
Btorm  in  his  Modern  Painters,  and  began  to  follow  the  first 
impression  by  a  succession  of  stimulating  volumes,  the 
subject  of  art  and  criticism  generally  has  been  invested 
with  new  interest  to  a  multitude  of  readers  who  never 
thought  before  earnestly  concerning  either.  There  is  little 
danger  that  a  very  considerable  number  of  Ruskin's  readers 
will  adopt  his  theories  in  full,  or  would  be  injured  by  them 
if  they  should.  The  exciting,  and  at  the  same  time  ele- 
vating character  of  all  his  writings,  has  been  acknow- 
ledged with  enthusiastic  appreciation  by  the  great  number 
of  readers  who  feel  that  they  have  been  wisely  taught  by 
him  many  valuable  lessons  in  the  observation  of  nature  jis 
■well  as  in  their  judgments  of  art  and  literature.  His 
works  or  selections  from  them,  cannot  be  too  warmly  re- 
commended for  their  moral  as  well  as  their  esthetic  excel- 
lence. NoAv  and  then  a  yoinig  person  may  be  ovcrl)orne 
and  swallowed  up  by  Ruskin,  but  there  are  very  few  who 
have  read  him  with  ardor  who  have  not  been  greatly  bene- 
fited. 


Chap.  XVIII.]    The  Criticism  of  English  .Literature.       301 

Books  on  the  English  Language,  and  on  language  in 
general  deserve  a  passing  notice  in  this  place  inasmuch  as 
reading  on  these  subjects  comes  legitimately  within  the 
scope  of  the  general  title  of  this  chapter.  The  number  of 
school  grammars  is  well  nigh  boundless,  and  among  them 
there  is  a  great  variety  in  respect  of  excellence.  Of  Philoso- 
phical Grammars  of  the  English  language  there  is  a  lamen- 
table deficiency.  It  is  in  the  German  language  only  that  we 
find  those  which  are  at  all  satisfactory  and  truly  scientific. 
The  works  of  R.  G.  Latham,  and  the  grammar  of  W.  C 
Fowler  are  perhaps  the  best.  George  P.  Marsh's  Lectures 
on  the  English  Language  and  Origin  and  History  of  the 
English  Language,  stand  prominent  as  treatises  adapted  for 
general  reading.  R.  C.  Trench  On  the  Study  of  Words, 
English  Past  and  Present,  and  Select  Glossary  of  English 
Words  are  instructive  and  popular  books.  W.  Swintou's 
Rambles  among  Words,  and  Scheie  De  Vere's  Studies  in 
English  are  books  which  excite  and  gratify  curiosity.  The 
attention  which  has  everywhere  been  given  to  the  study  of 
Anglo-Saxon  and  of  the  early  English,  j)romises  to  yield 
large  contributions  to  this  class  of  works. 

In  General  Philology,  which  is  a  subject  that  interests 
very  many  general  readers,  the  following  books  may  be, 
named  :  Max  Muller's  Lectures  on  Language,  Chips  from  a 
German  WorJcshojJ,  W.  D.  Whitney's  Language  and  the 
Study  of  Language,  E.  W.  Earrar  On  the  Origin  of  Lan- 
guage, B.  W.  Dwight's  Modern  Philology,  and  J.  Stod- 
dart's  Glossology.  The  study  of  words  in  their  general 
aspects  and  of  language  is  veiy  nearly  akin  to  literary 
criticism,  and  careful  and  critical  attention  to  the  style  of 
the  authors  we  read,  is  itself  a  most  important  means  of 
culture,  as  well  as  a  source  of  high  enjoyment.  Eor  this 
reason  such  works  as  Dean  Alford's  The  Queens  English, 
G.  W.  Moon's  Bad  English  and  The  Deans  English,  and 
E.  S.  Gould's  Good  English  are  well  worth  reading.     The 


302  JSooJcs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xviir. 

habit  of  consulting  an  English  Dictionary  in  reading  is  not 
maintained  as  commonly  as  it  should  be  by  intelligent 
persons.  No  single  habit  is  at  once  so  eminently  the  cause 
and  the  indication  of  careful  attention  to  the  language 
which  we  use,  and  an  efficient  training,  to  the  best  kind  of 
culture.  It  involves  daily  and  hourly  criticism  of  the  use 
of  an  instrument  which  cannot  be  correctly  and  felicitously 
applied  without  accurate  and  careful  thinking  «>nd  active 
and  refined  sensibility. 


CHAPTER  XIX, 

BOOKS   OF   SCIENCE    AND    DUTY. 

Philosophical  and  ethical  reading  next  claim  our  at- 
tention, and  those  books  which  aim  to  enlarge  or  confirm 
our  convictions  of  Truth  or  to  convince  and  incite  us  with 
respect  to  Duty.  We  use  the  words  philosophical  and 
ethical  in  a  very  liberal  sense — to  define  all  those  works 
whctlier  longer  or  shorter,  whethei  graver  or  less  serious, 
which  have  for  their  direct  object  conviction  or  action  in 
the  light  of  permanent  principles,  in  contradistinction  from 
those  books  which  narrate  facts  or  address  the  imagination. 
We  do  not  include  Theological  and  Religious  reading,  but 
reserve  these  for  a  separate  chapter.  We  exclude  all  books 
and  reading  in  technical  or  special  science,  because  our  de- 
sign contemplates  only  a  general  course  of  reading,  and  be- 
cause, for  obvious  reasons,  the  teachers  and  manuals  of  the 
several  sciences  may  be  relied  on  to  direct  to  courses  of 
special  and  technical  study. 

We  begin  with  the  sciences  of  Nature,  i.  e.,  physical  na- 
ture— for  we  hold  that  the  universe  of  Nature  includes  the 
spiritual  as  truly  as  the  material,  and  that  it  is  inaccurate  to 
restrict  the  word  nature  to  matter,  whether  it  be  hard  mat- 
ter or  soft  matter,  whether  it  be  solid  and  fixed  as  ada- 
mant or  as  impalpable  and  evanescent  as  the  most  dif- 
fused and  diffusible  of  the  gases.  Most  of  the  books 
upon  these  sciences  which  are  of  the  highest  authority  are 
necessarily  technical.  They  require  careful  study  and 
exact  knowledge.  Of  these  standard  treatises  there  is  a 
very  large  number,  and  they  are  constantly  displacing  one 

303 


304  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.xix. 

another,  with  the  very  progress  of  science  itself.  A  few 
books  only  come  within  the  range  and  scope  of  our  discus- 
sion, but  these  few  should  not  be  omitted.  For  the 
general  reader  Alexander  von  Humboldt's  Cosmos  is  the 
bast  single  book  which  gives  what  was  known  concerning 
the  physical  universe  or  was  regarded  as  established  by 
scientific  methods  and  scientific  evidence,  at  the  time  when 
the  illustrious  author  finished  the  work  which  was  so 
splendid  a  finale  to  his  laborious  life.  This  work  is  very 
concisely  written  and  is  often  abstract  and  technical,  but  it 
will  well  repay  slow  and  careful  reading.  The  History  of 
the  jn'ogress  of  the  sciences  of  nature,  to  the  man  of  philo- 
sophical tastes  is  in  the  highest  degree  exciting  and  instruc- 
tive, especially  when  followed  in  the  more  recent  stages 
of  their  rapid  and  brilliant  development.  William  Whe- 
well's  History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences  from  the  earliest  to 
the  present  time,  is  the  best  if  not  the  only  compendious 
work  upon  this  general  topic  which  is  accessible.  It  meets 
all  the  wants  of  the  general  reader  up  to  the  time  when  it 
was  written.  J.  F.  W.  Herschel's  Preliminary  Discourse 
on  the  Study  of  Natural  Philosophy,  is  a  clear  and  popular 
position  of  the  methods  of  studying  nature  and  of  the 
grounds  of  our  confidence  in  the  processes  of  induction. 
W.  Whewell's  Philosophy  of  the  Inductive  Sciences,  after- 
wards re- wrought  and  published  under  the  title  of  History 
of  Scientific  Ideas,  etc.,  is  much  more  ambitiously  mettiphy- 
sical  and  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of  the  general  reader. 
John  Stuart  Mill's  System  of  Logic  Ratiocinative  and  In- 
ductive, treats  in  Book  Third  of  tlie  processes  and  laws  of 
induction,  more  carefully  and  exhaustively  than  any  other 
work.  The  defective  philosophical  system  taught  in  it 
diminishes  very  little  from  its  practiwil  value.  The  sub- 
stance of  Mill's  work  may  be  found  in  abridgements,  as  W. 
Stebbing's  Analysis  of  MilVs  Logic,  and  T.  Fowler's  Ele- 
ments of  Inductive  Logic.     L.  Agassi z's  Essay  on  Classifi- 


Chap.  XIX.]  Boohs  of  Science  and  Duty.  306 

cation  is  a  treatise  often  referred  to  in  respect  to  the  phil- 
osophy of  the  inductive  processes.  His  Methods  of  Study 
in  Natural  Ilialory,  and  Geological  Sketches  are  at  once 
popular  and  scientific.  Arnold  Guyot's  Earth  and  Man 
comes  within  our  rule,  for  though  it  treats  in  special  of 
physical  geography  it  discusses  it  very  largely  in  its  general 
relations  to  the  history  and  development  of  the  race. 
Many  of  the  writings  of  the  lamented  Hugh  Miller  are 
very  attractive  to  the  unscientific  reader,  even  when  they 
are  strictly  technical,  for  the  interest  with  which  they  invest 
physical  research  and  the  light  they  throw  upon  its  pro- 
cesses. The  same  is  true  of  many  of  the  writings  of  Sir 
Humphry  Davy,  Sir  Charles  Bell,  of  Richard  Owen, 
Michael  Faraday,  and  of  J.  Tyndall.  It  is  to  be  borne 
in  mind  that  the  press  is  literally  oppressed  by  the  number 
of  superficial  books  in  which  the  attempt  is  made  to  popu- 
larize science  and  to  set  forth  its  relations  to  the  imagi- 
nation and  to  faith.  To  uninstructed  minds  and  to  those 
who  have  only  a  smattering  of  knowledge  many  of  these 
writings  are  attractive  just  in  proportion  to  their  superfi- 
cialness  and  pretension.  The  style  in  which  they  are 
written  is  often  vicious  and  inflated,  and  overloaded  with 
tawdry  ornaments.  It  is  not  wise  either  to  trust  the  science 
taught  in  such  books  or  to  follow  the  imaginative  flights 
to  which  they  would  exalt  and  inspire,  unless  their  authors 
are  known  among  scientific  men  to  be  men  of  requisite 
knowledge  and  of  sound  judgment.  Although  the  physi- 
cal sciences  are  in  their  nature  severe  and  in  their  requisi- 
tions exacting,  they  aiford  the  amplest  room  for  all  grades 
of  sciolists  and  pretenders  as  well  as  the  widest  range  for 
every  species  of  imaginative  romancing.  Science  run  mad 
is  the  maddest  and  the  most  uncontrollable  of  all  forms  of 
madness,  as  the  steadiest  and  most  trustworthy  of  horses  is 
the  most  stiff-headed  and  unmanageable  when  he  goes  off 
in  a  fright  or  indulges  in  an  escapade.  It  is  a  safe 
20 


306  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xix, 

rule  not  to  waste  one's  time  or  money  on  any  of  these  pre- 
tentious travesties  of  scientific  trutii,  or  works  of  science  jioe- 
tically  treated.  Among  standard  books  of  science  in.  gen- 
eral and  on  some  of  tlie  special  sciences,  may  be  named, 
Mary  Somerville's  The  Connection  of  the  Physical  Sci- 
eneeSj  The  Mechanism  of  the  Heavens,  and  Physical  Geo- 
graphy, L.  Euler's  Letters  on  Natural  Philosophy,  D. 
Olmsted's  Letters  on  Astronomy,  E.  Loomis's  Progress  of 
Astronomy,  J.  Liebig's  Familiar  Letters  on  Chemistry,  J. 
P.  Cooke's  Religion  and  Chemistry,  G.  P.  Marsh's  31an 
and  Nature,  also  J.  Tyndall's  Heat  as  a  mode  of  Motion, 
Sound,  H.  F.  Roscoe's  Spectrum  Analysis,  E.  L.  You- 
mans',  (edr.)  Correlation  and  Conservation  of  Forces,  E.  F. 
Burr's  Ecee  Coelum. 

Natural  History  diiTers  from  Natural  Science,  in  that  it 
is  limited  to  descriptive  classifications  of  living  things  and 
beings,  and  excludes  reasoned  theories  of  the  laws  and  jirin- 
ciples  of  the  inorganic  .agencies  and  elements  of  the  pliysicid 
universe.  The  reading  of  works  of  this  description  is  usu- 
ally fascinating  to  chiklreu  and  youth,  and  should  be  culti- 
vated assiduously  in  order  to  stimulate  to  the  careful  study 
of  Botany  and  Zoology  as  the  powers  of  observation  are 
matured.  In  all  these  branches  of  study,  as  in  Geology, 
we  have  manuals  and  authors  of  the  highest  rank  and  trust- 
worthiness, as  L.  Agassiz,  J.  D.  Dana,  A.  Gray  and  A.  A. 
Gould,  and  many  others.  That  observation  of  Nature 
which  is  within  the  reach  of  every  person  of  active  mind 
and  curious  tastes  may  be  greatly  stimulated  by  reading 
such  books  as  Gilbert  White's  Natural  Hidory  of  Scl- 
bome,  W.  Howitt's  Book  of  the  Seasons,  G.  B.  Emerson's 
Forests  and  Shrubs  of  MassachusctUi,  Samuel's  Birds  of  Neto 
England.,  T.  W.  Harris'  Injects  of  ]\raf<sachuscfffi,  L.  II. 
Morgan's  Tlie  American  Beaver,  J.  G.  Wood's  JlluMrated 
Natural  History,  etc.,  all  which  are  attractive  and  trust- 
worthy.    Such  works  as  those  of  J.  L.  Michelet,  The  Bird, 


Chap.  XIX.]  Books  of  Science  and  Duty.  307 

and  the  many  prepared  by  L.  Figuier — those  published  in 
The  Library  of  Wonders  from  the  French,  The  Universe  by 
L.  A.  Pouchct,  never  cease  to  attract  and  reward  the 
reader,  whether  young  or  old,  and  they  render  a  most  im- 
portant service  when  they  stimulate  a  family  of  children, 
especially  if  they  have  a  home  in  the  country,  to  use  their 
eyes  and  ears  in  the  observation  of  nature.  If  rightly 
used  they  furnish  the  happiest  illustration  of  the  remarks 
which  we  have  made,  that  reading  becomes  most  interesting 
and  instructive  when  it  is  interpreted  by,  as  well  as  when 
it  directs  the  employments  and  amusements  of  the  daily 
life. 

We  are  reminded  by  this  of  the  important  use  which 
may  be  made  of  books  and  reading  by  those  who  cultivate 
the  soil.  The  old  and  stupid  prejudice  against  "book- 
farming"  has  almost  entirely  passed  away.  No  person 
who  reads  this  volume  will  be  likely  to  retain  the  least 
remnant  of  it.  A  sense  of  the  value  of  agricultural  }>ooks 
and  periodicals  is  now  generally  diffused  throughout  the 
community.  It  were  difficult  to  decide  what  are  the  best 
books  upon  the  many  topics  comprehended  under  this  ex- 
tensive department.  Every  part  of  the  country  has  those 
which  are  thought  to  be  the  best.  Every  leading  journal 
and  newsj)aper  is  usually  interested  in  certain  favorite 
writers.  Should  we  attempt  to  furnish  a  select  list  which 
might  be  approved  for  the  present  year,  it  would  probably 
be  soon  displaced  in  part  in  the  year  follov/ing.  The  list 
which  we  subjoin  has  been  carefully  studied  by  a, compe- 
tent and  discriminating  authority  who  is  endorsed  by  an 
author  who  stands  high  in  favor  with  the  firming  as  well 
as  with  the  literary  world.  S.  W.  Johnson,  Hoio  Crops 
Grow.  How  Crops  Feed.  G.  E.  Waring,  Draining  for 
Profit.  J.  J.  Thomas,i^rtrm.  Implements.  A.  Gray,  Field, 
Garden  and  Forest  Botany.  W.  Darlington,  American 
Weeds  and  Useful  Plants.     C.  L.  Flint,  Grasses  and  For' 


308  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xix. 

age  Plants.  F.  Burr,  Field  and  Garden  Vegetables  of 
America.  P.  Henderson,  Gardening  for  Profit.  J.  J. 
Thomas,  Fruit  Culturist.  G.  Husman,  Grapes  and  Wine 
Making.  A.  S.  Fuller,  Small  Fruit  Guitarist.  J.  A. 
Hoopes,  Forest  Tree  Guliurist.  Book  of  Evergreens.  F. 
Parkman,jBoo^  of  Moses.  E.  S.  Rand,  Jr.  Bulbs.  Sev- 
enty-five Flowers.  S.  T^iiiney,  Natural  History.  R.  L.  A\~ 
len, Domestic  Animals.  C.  L.  Ylmt,3Iilch  Cows  and  Daii^y 
Farming.  H.  W.  Herbert,  Hints  to  Horse-keepers.  W. 
Youatt,  The  Horse.  Harris,  On  the  Fig.  H.  S.  Randall, 
The  Practical  Shepherd.  T.  W.  Harris,  ijisecfe  of  Massa- 
chusetts. A.  J.  Downing,  Landscape  Gardening.  L.  L. 
.  Langstroth,  The  Hive  and  Honey  Bee.  T>.  G.  Mitchell, 
3Iy  Farm  at  Fdgewood.      Wet  Days  at  Edgewood, 

From  Agriculture  to  Psychology  and  Speculative  Phil- 
osophy seems  a  long  stride.  It  is  a  wide  leap  which  car- 
ries us  from  the  most  concrete  to  the  most  abstract  of 
topics.  And  yet  the  stride  is  by  no  means  so  long,  nor 
the  leap  so  wide  as  would  appear  at  first  view.  The  cul- 
ture of  the  earth  forces  us  to  consider  life  in  the  plant  and 
the  animal,  and  we  find  ourselves  before  we  know  it  as- 
cending from  the  soil  and  the  clod  into  the  fascination  and 
mystery  of  that  life  which  nature  sustains  by  the  earth  and 
from  the  air.  The  study  of  life  carries  us  up  to  finer  and 
more  subtle  processes  and  powers  so  tliat  before  we  ^re 
aware,  we  are  confronted  by  the  presence  of  spirit  with  its 
wondrous  capacities  and  gifts  and  its  still  more  wonderful 
intuitions  and  beliefs.  The  analysis  of  these  implicates 
us  in  psychological  inquiries  and  metaphysical  researclics. 
Ethical  principles  spring  out  of  the  soul's  inner  being,  and 
conscience  and  duty  are  seen  to  be  clothed  wath  authority 
by  the  soul  and  to  be  enforced  l)y  all  the  indications  and 
utterances  of  the  universe.  God  himself  looks  out  upon 
us  from  all  the  windows  of  heaven  and  is  felt  by  us  to  be 


Chap.  XIX.]         Boohs  of  Scimce  and  Duty.  309 

the  strength  and  stability  of  the  fabric  of  Nature  and  the 
institutions  of  human  society. 

The  mental  and  moral  sciences  are  often  abstruse,  but 
they  are  not  technical  and  special  as  are  the  so-called 
sciences  of  Nature,  for  the  reason  that  the  principles  and 
facts  with  which  they  have  to  do  are  more  within  the  reach 
of  common  minds  and  have  a  nearer  relation  to  many  of 
the  higher  interests  and  feelings  of  the  race.  They  require 
less  technical  preparation  in  special  studies,  and  hence  are 
more  accessible  to  the  judgment  and  interest  of  any  thought- 
ful and  studious  person.  An  intelligent  reader,  it  is  true, 
is  not  likely  to  be  destitute  of  curiosity  respecting  mechanics 
or  astronomy.  But  he  is  still  less  likely  to  be  devoid  of 
interest  in  those  speculations  which  concern  the  nature  of 
the  soul,  the  sanctions  of  conscience,  the  rights  and  duties 
of  men,  the  limitations  of  government  and  the  destiny  of 
the  race.  All  men  as  soon  as  they  begin  to  reflect,  begin 
a  course  of  metaphysical  activity  whether  they  know  or 
not,  and  many  a  plain  man  whose  reading  is  very  limited 
is  ready  to  be  aroused  to  excited  interest  in  speculative 
studies  and  in  the  history  of  such  inquiries  as  conducted 
by  others.  Wherever  men  have  been  made  earnest  tliinkera 
by  theological  discussions,  political  excitements  or  moral 
revolutions,  there  has  it  been  uniformly  true  that  the  sub-, 
ject  matter  of  speculative  and  moral  philosophy  has 
awakened  a  profound  and  excited  interest  in  the  minds  of 
the  common  men  of  the  community.  A  great  social  con- 
vulsion, like  the  so-called  Great  Rebellion  of  1640,  the 
English  Revolution  of  1688,  the  American  Revolution  of 
1776,  the  French  Revolutions  of  1789  and  1848,  or  our 
own  Civil  War  of  1861,  forces  even  the  ignorant  and  un- 
thinking to  fall  back  upon  the  ultimate  principles  of  politi- 
cal and  social  obligation  and  to  discuss  them  with  excited 
interest.  It  turns  a  nation  of  farmers  and  artisans  into  a 
school  of  acute  and  disputatious  philosophers.     The  din  of 


310  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  XIX. 

preparation  for  physical  conflict  in  the  field  is  usually  inter- 
spersed with  the  hum  of  excited  if  not  angry  discussion  and 
debate.  The  questions  of  the  suffrage  of  women, of  blacks 
and  whites,  of  natives  and  foreigners,  cannot  be  settled 
without  an  intelligent  reference  to  the  principles  of  ethical 
and  political  philosophy.  The  occurrence  of  strikes,  the 
organization  of  trades  unions,  the  demands  of  the  laborer, 
and  the  retorts  of  the  employer,  force  all  parties  to  examine 
the  doctrines  and  definitions  of  political  and  social  science. 
Earnest  religious  excitements  and  controversies,  whether 
they  end  in  faith  or  in  unbelief,  compel  every  man  who  is 
interested,  to  a  profound  philosophical  inquiry.  All  men 
who  think  earnestly  upon  fundamental  questions  must  so 
far  be  philosophers.  In  this  way  is  the  fact  to  be  ex- 
plained, that  plain  and  even  unlettered  men  are  so  often 
acute  philosophical  reasoners  and  are  interested  so  profound- 
ly in  books  and  reading  of  a  speculative  character.  This  is 
especially  true  in  a  country  like  ours,  so  receptive  of  ideas 
and  so  quick  to  transmit  them,  all  over  which  so  many 
persons  of  active  minds  are  profoundly  interested  in  great 
practical  questions  and  are  finding  themselves  as  constant- 
ly forced  to  decide  these  by  a  reference  to  fundamental 
principles.  Hence  we  explain  the  fact  that  there  are  mul- 
titudes of  men  making  no  pretence  to  extensive  literary 
culture  who  not  only  take  a  strong  interest  in  books  on 
these  subjects  but  are  qualified  to  read  and  judge  them 
with  intelligence  and  discrimination.  We  do  not  consult 
the  wants  of  the  learned  class,  but  provide  for  the  occa- 
sions of  the  general  reader  when  we  suggest  a  course  of 
reading  in  Philosophy. 

We  begin  with  the  History  of  Philosophy.  While  th.ere 
is  no  general  history  in  the  English  language  which  meets 
all  the  wants  of  the  general  reader  there  are  several  which 
deserve  to  be  named  as  worthy  of  perusal.  F.  D.  Maurice's 
History  of  Moral  and  Metaphysical  Philosophy  is  perhaps 


Chap.  XIX.]         Boohs  of  Science  and  Duty.  311 

the  most  readable  of  anv.  A.  Schwegler's  History  of  PJiil- 
osophy  translated  from  the  German  by  Prof.  J.  H.  Seelye, 
and  a  later  edition  with  large  additions  by  J.  H.  Stirling,  is 
a  very  good  brief  manual.  An  Epitome  of  the  History  of 
Philosophy  from  a  French  manual  translated  by  Prof.  C.  S. 
Henry,  which  is  published  in  Harper's  Family  Library, 
is  a  convenient  but  rather  dry  book  of  reference.  Mr.  G. 
H.  Lewes'  History  of  Philosophy  is  in  some  respects  more 
erudite  and  acute  than  the  work  of  Mr.  Maurice,  but  it  is 
written  too  decidedly  in  the  negative  spirit  of  the  positive 
school  to  inspire  entire  confidence,  especially  as  it  is  a  car- 
dinal doctnne  of  this  school  that  philosophical  speculation  is 
vain  and  profitless.  A  translation  from  the  very  learned  and 
comprehensive  manual  of  F.  Ueberweg  is  now  in  course  of 
publication,  from  which  much  may  be  expected  of  accurate 
statement  and  intelligible  information.  For  modern  phil- 
osophy J.  D.  Morell's  Historical  ajid  Critical  Vieiv  of  the 
Speculative  Pldlosopliy  of  Europe  in  the  l^th  Century  is  a 
very  comprehensive  and  convenient  though  not  always  sat- 
isfactory treatise.  For  the  history  of  the  modern  German 
Philosophy  H.  M.  Chalybaus's  Historical  Survey  of  Specu- 
lative Philosophy  from  Kant  to  Hegel  is  perhaps  as  good, 
i.  e.  as  intelligible  an  account  as  could  be  expected  from 
a  German  historian,  of  the  progress  of  a  series  of  specula- 
tions which  are  confessedly  dark  and  abstruse.  In  ancient 
philosophy  in  particular  W.  A.  Butler's  Lectures  on  the 
History  of  Ancient  Philosophy  are  the  most  satisfactory  as 
they  are  the  most  eloquent  history  which  the  language  can 
show.  Mr.  George  Grote  in  his  History  of  Greece  gives  a 
very  attractive  sketch  of  Socrates  and  the  Socratic  school, 
M'hile  in  his  very  elaborate  work  on  Plato,  and  the  other 
companions  of  Socrates,  he  has  drawn  out  a  careful  outline 
of  each  of  his  works.  Mr.  Grote  is  in  many  cases  unjust 
to  Plato,  so  far  at  least  as  he  interprets  and  judges  him  by 
the  tenets  of  the  narrow  and  superficial  school  of  philoso- 


312  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xix. 

phy  to  which  he  himself  belongs.  Mr.  G.  H.  Lewes  has 
devoted  a  special  volume  to  the  contributions  of  Aristotle 
to  physical  science.  B.  F.  Cocker's  Christianity  and  Greek 
Pliilosophy  is  a  valuable  discussion  of  the  themes  and  the 
achievements  of  ancient  speculation  and  a  comparison  of 
both  with  those  of  modern  thought  and  the  positive  teach- 
ings of  Christianity.  For  the  history  of  speculative  phil- 
osophy in  Great  Britain  nothing  better  can  be  named  than 
Dugald  Stewart's  General  View  of  the  Progress  of  3Ieta' 
physical,  Ethical  and  Political  Philosophy,  which  as  was 
natural  is  specially  devoted  to  British  metaphysicians,  and 
Sir  James  Mackintosh's  General  Vieiv  of  the  Progress  of 
Ethical  Philosophy.  Both  of  these  works  are  very  incom- 
plete and  imperfect,  though  containing  much  valuable  his- 
tory and  criticism.  All  mere  histories  of  philosophy,  are 
necessarily  unsatisfactory  by  reason  of  the  narrow  limits 
within  which  the  writer  is  confined.  It  not  unfrcquently 
happens  that  these  defects  are  supplemented  by  articles  in 
Encyclopedias  or  by  special  treatises  of  a  biographical  or 
critical  character. 

Leaving  the  History  of  Philosophy  and  ])roceeding  to 
Philosophy  itself,  the  general  reader  will  find  translations 
of  the  following  works  ample  for  the  direct  knowledge 
which  they  give  of  the  teachings  and  modes  of  thinking  of 
the  most  distinguished  of  the  ancient  philosophers.  W. 
Whewell's  Select  Platonic  Dialogues.  R.  W.  Browne,  Aris- 
totle's  Nicomacliean  Ethics.  T.  Hobbcs  and  T.  Buckley's 
Rhetoric  and  Poetics.  Cicero's  Offices,  Letters,  Tasculan 
Disputations  and  De  Finibus,  translated  by  difTcrent  wri- 
ters; also  the  writings  of  Seneca,  Epictetus,  Antoninus  and 
the  poet  Lucretius.  Coming  to  modern  times  we  name 
the  following  works  as  pre-eminently  worthy  to  be  read. 
R.  Descartes,  Meditations  and  Essay  on  Method.  J.  Locke'b 
Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding,  with  V.  Cousin's 
Lectures  on  Locke,  known  in  one  translation  as  Cousin's 


Chap.  XIX.]         Boohs  of  Scimcc  and  Duh/.  313 

Psycliology.  T.  E.  Webb,  Tlie  Intcllectualism  of  Loche.  D. 
Hume,  Philosophical  Treatises.  G.  Berkeley,  The  Ilinute 
PJdlosopher ;  T/ie  Principles  of  Human  Knowledge.  T. 
Reid,  Inquiry  and  Essays.  T.  Brown,  Lectures  on  the 
Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind.  Dugald  Stewart,  Phi- 
losophical Worlcs.  I.  Kan t,  Ori%Me  o/PwrejReosow,  trans- 
lated by  Meiklejohn.  J.  G.  Fichte,  Tlie  Science  of  Know- 
ledge; The  Destination  of  Man.  Sir  William  Hamilton, 
Lectures  on  Metaphysics  and  Logic,  also  Discussions  on  Phi- 
losophy and  Literature.  H.  Calderwood,  Philosophy  of  the  In- 
finite. PI.  L.  Mansel,  Limits  of  Religious  TJiought;  Tlie 
Philosophy  of  the  Conditioned;  Prolegomena  Logica. 
Goldwin  Smith,  Letter  to  H.  L.  Mansel.  J.  H.  Stirling, 
The  Secret  of  Hegel.  David  Hartley's  Observations  on  3Ian. 
J.  Mill,  Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind.  J.  &.M.1U.,  A  Sys- 
tem of  Logic  Ratiocinative  and  Inductive ;  Examinatio7i 
of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  Philosophy.  J.  M'Cosh,  Ex- 
amination of  3Ir.  J.  S.  MiUs  Philosophy,  being  a  Defence 
of  Fundamental  Truth ;  The  Intuitions  of  the  Human 
Mind,  etc.  J.  F.  Ferrier,  Institutes  of  Metaphysics.  Her- 
bert Spencer,  First  Pi-inciples,  and  Principles  of  Psy- 
chology. A.  Bain,  Tlie  Senses  and  the  Intellect;  The  Emo- 
tions and  the  Will;  Mental  and  31oral  Science;  A  Com- 
pendium of  psychology  and  Ethics  ;  Logic,  Inductive  <ind 
Deductive.  D.  Masson,  Recent  British  Philosophy.  F. 
Bowen,  Essays.  J.  Martineau,  Essays,  Philosophical  and 
Theological.  These  works  with  the  Histories  of  Philoso- 
phy and  the  numerous  critical  papers  which  many  of  them 
have  occasioned  would  give  tlie  reader  a  reasonable  know- 
ledge of  the  various  schools  of  opinion  which  have  pre- 
vailed in  modern  Philosophy. 

Of  Manuals  of  Psychology  we  name  as  in  more  or  less 
extensive  use,  those  of  T,  C.  Upham,  F.  AVayland,  L.  P. 
Hickock,  Dugald  Stewart,  Thomas  Brown,  Sir  William 
Hamilton,  J.  Haven,  A.  Mahan,  J.  T.  Champlin,  N.  Por- 
ter, J.  Bascom  and  A.  Bain. 


314  Books  and  Beading.  [Chap.  xix. 

To  Psychology,  Physiology  has  close  relations  because 
of  the  intimate  connection  between  the  human  body  and 
the  human  soul.  The  interest  in  this  science  has  also  of 
late  been  greatly  increased  as  the  result  of  materialistic 
views  in  respect  to  life  and  spirit.  The  study  of  life  in  any 
of  its  forms  is  indeed  the  best  introduction  to  the  study  of 
spirit  in  any  of  its  manifestations.  W.  B.  Carpenter's 
General  Physiology  and  Human  Physiology  are  very  gen- 
erally accepted  as  of  the  highest  authority.  They  are 
characterized  by  their  cncyclopediac  character  more  than 
by  acuteness  of  discrimination,  force  of  reasoning  or 
comprehensiveness  of  thought.  J.  Mliller's  Human  Phy- 
siology is  in  all  these  respects  incomparably  the  supe- 
rior. Very  able  Manuals  have  been  produced  by  E.  C. 
Dalton,  AY.  Draper  and  T.  II.  Huxley.  A  more  compre- 
hensive treatise  is  in  process  of  publication  by  A.  Flint. 
A  brief  and  plausible  argument  for  materialistic  views  may 
be  found  in  a  tract  by  T.  H.  Huxley,  Tlce  Physical  Basis 
of  Life  and  a  reply  of  great  ability  As  regards  Protoplasm 
by  J.  H.  Stirling. 

Vegetiible  Physiology  is  usually  treated  in  works  upon 
Botany.  A.  Gray's  How  Plants  grow,  L.  II.  Grindon's 
Phenomena  of  Plant  Life,  II.  von  Mohl,  The  Vegetable 
Cell,  J.  Marcct's  Vegetable  Physiology,  J.  M.  kSchleidcn's, 
The  Plant  a  Biography,  C  Darwin's  Origin  of  Species,  P. 
W.  Rogct's  Animal  and  Vegetable  Physiology  are  all  works 
of  authority. 

In  Ethics  the  contributions  to  English  literature  arc  very 
numerous,  but  are  almost  universally  deficient  in  precision, 
method  and  philosoi>hical  complotoness.  We  name  the 
most  significant  writers,  and  they  may  be  advantageously 
read  in  connection  with  the  following  critical  histories,  J. 
Mackintosh's  Progress  of  FAhicnl  Philosophy,  W.  AVhe- 
wcll's  History  of  Moral  Philosophy  in  England,  R. 
Blakey's  History  of  31oral  Science,  Th.  Jouffroy's  Lntro- 


Chap.  XIX.]         Books  of  Science  and  Duty.  315 

duotion  to  Ethics.  The  leading  writers  are:  T.  Hobbcs' 
Tlie  Leviathan,  R.  Cudworth's  Treatise  concerning  Eter- 
nal and  Immutable  MoraUtij^  li.  Cumberland's  De  Legibus 
Natura>,  F.  Hutcheson's  Inquiry  into  the  Origin  of  our 
Ideas  of  Beauty  and  Virtue;  Moral  Philosophy ,  D.  Hume, 
Inquiry  into  the  Principles  of  Morality^  Jonathan  Ed- 
wards', A  Treatise  on  the  Nature  of  True  Virtue,  R. 
Price's  Review  of  the  Principal  Questions  in  Morals,  A. 
Smith's  Theory  of  3Ioral  Sentiments,  W.  Paley's  Manual 
of  Moral  and  Political  Philosophy,  J.  Bentham's  Princi- 
ples of  Morals  and  Legislation;  Deontology,  J.  S.  Mill's 
Essay  on  Utilitarianism,  Alex.  Smith's  On  the  Philosophy 
of  3Iorals,  I.  Kant's  31etaphysics  of  Ethics,  (tr.  from  the 
German),  F.  P.  Cobbe's  Essay  on  Intuitive  31orals,  an 
eloquent  exposition  of  the  Kantian  system,  W.  Adams' 
Elements  of  Christian  Science,  S.  S.  I^-aurie's  On  the  Phil- 
osophy of  Ethics,  M.  Hopkins'  Lowell  Lectures,  also  Laiv 
of  Love  and  Love  as  Law,  D.  Mctcalf 's  Nature  Founda- 
tion and  Extent  of  Moral  Obligation,  A.  Bain's  Compen- 
dium of  Ethics. 

Of  manuals  of  the  theory  and  practice  of  ethics,  we  name 
AY.  Whewell's  Elements  of  3Iorality  including  Polity,  \Y. 
Fleming's  3Ianual  of  3Ioral  Philosophy,  F.  Wayland's 
3Ioral  Philosophy,  L.  P.  Hickock's  System  of  3Ioral 
Science,  J.  Haven's  Moral  Philosophy,  J.  H.  Fairchild's 
Moral  Philosophy,  or  the  Science  of  Obligation,  A.  Alex- 
ander's 3Ioral  Philosophy. 

Politics  and  Jurisprudence  are  akin  to  ethics,  and  the 
princi])les  of  both  these  sciences  are  generally  discussed  in 
manuals  of  duty.  The  principles  of  the  science  of  govern- 
ment should  be  thoroughly  considered  by  every  reading 
man  in  a  republican  government.  The  attempt  has  been 
made  to  introduce  the'  study  of  the  elements  of  this  science 
into  our  public  schools  but  with  no  flattering  success,  for 
the  reason  that  the  study  in  its  own  nature  is  too  abstract 


316  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  XIX. 

and  requires  too  much  reflection  to  be  suited  for  very 
young  persons.  The  Political  Class  Book  by  W.  Sullivan, 
a  very  clear-headed  writer,  was  prepared  for  use  in  schools. 
Blackstone's  Commentaries  is  the  text  book  which  intro- 
duces every  student  to  the  common  law  of  England.  It  is 
eminently  instructive  to  every  general  reader  who  is  not 
repelled  by  its  length  and  terminology.  J.  Kent's  Com- 
mentaries on  American  Laio  in  its  extended  or  its  abrido^ed 
form  is  a  work  of  the  highest  authority.  H.  S.  Maine's 
History  of  Ancient  Law  is  a  work  of  a  decidedly  philoso- 
phical character,  and  traces  many  of  the  princij^los  and 
rules  of  positive  legislation  back  to  their  first  beginnings; 
so  to  speak  to  their  rudimental  germs.  J.  Austin's  Lec- 
tures on  Jurisprudence  is  a  work  of  eminent  interest  and 
value.  J.  N.  Pomeroy's  Introduction  to  3Iunicipal  Law 
is  a  popular  and  thorough  treatise. 

Of  works  in  political  science,  the  following  are  worth 
attention.  F.  Lieber's  Civil  Liberty  and  Self-government 
is  a  comprehensive  and  trustworthy  manual  which  ought 
to  be  mastered  by  every  intelligent  reader.  J.  Mackintosh, 
On  the  Laio  of  Nature  and  of  Nations,  J.  S.  Mill,  On 
Liberty  and  On  Representative  Government,  J.  C.  Calhoun, 
On  Government,  J.  Locke,  On  Government,  S.  Nash, 
Morality  and  the  State,  E.  Mulford,  The  Nation  arc 
worlcs  of  greater  or  less  interest  and  authority.  A.  De 
Tocqueville's  Democracy  in  America  is  universally  ac- 
knowledged to  \)ii  the  most  sagacious  and  profound  work 
on  American  Institutions  and  American  society  that  has 
ever  been  produced.  The  Federalist  is  a  classical  work 
upon  the  nature  and  origin  of  our  general  government,  as 
are  the  so-called  Madison  Papers,  which  contain  a  sketch  of 
the  debates  in  the  convention  which  formed  the  constitution. 
With  this  should  be  connected  J.  Elliot's  Debates  on  the 
adoption  of  the  Federal  Constitution  in  the  several  State 
Conventions,  also  Geo.  T.  Curtis'    Origin  of  the  Constitu- 


Chap.  XIX.]  Boohs  of  Science  and  Duty.  317 

tion  of  the  United  States,  also  Marshall's  Decisions  of 
Cases  which  coiiceriicd  the  intei-pretation  of  the  same.  T. 
Jefferson's  Memoirs,  Correspondence  and  Miscellanies, 
with  his  Life  by  S.  Randall  are  invaluable  to  a  right 
understanding  and  a  just  estimate  of  parties  in  this  country. 
The  life  and  works  of  Alexander  Hamilton  give  the  views 
of  a  leader  on  the  opposite  side.  W.  Sullivan's  Letters  on 
Public  Characters,  T.  Dwight's  The  Character  of  Jeffer- 
son as  shown  by  His  Writings  and  History  of  the  Hartford 
Convention  may  be  consulted  with  great  profit.  The  wri- 
tings and  speeches  of  John  C  Calhoun  and  Daniel  Web- 
ster which  relate  to  the  doctrines  of  nullification  and  seces- 
sion are  also  of  the  first  importance.  M.  Van  Buren's 
History  of  Parties  in  the  United  States,  J.  A.  Hamilton's 
Heminisceiices,  T.  H.  Benton's  Thirty  Years'  View  of  the 
United  States  Crovernment,  J.  Buchanan's  President 
Buchanan' s  Administration  are  all  instructive  concerning: 
our  more  recent  political  history.  The  treatises  and  speeches 
elicited  by  the  recent  civil  war  on  both  sides,  are  too  recent 
and  too  well-known  to  require  to  be  named,  if  indeed  a 
selection  from  such  a  multitude  could  easily  be  made.  The 
publications  of  the  National  Loyal  League  association  pre- 
sent the  national  view  with  great  force  and  varied  ability. 

Of  treatises  upon  the  English  government  and  constitu- 
tion W.  Bagehot's  The  English  Constitution  is  foremost  in 
thoroughness  and  authority.  E.  S.  Creasy 's  Rise  and  Pro- 
gress of  the  English  Constitution,  Lord  John  Russell's  Eng- 
lish Crovernment  and  Constitution,  I.  L.  De  Lolmc's  Consti- 
tution of  England,  are  all  good  books. 

The  histories  of  H.  Hallara  and  E.  May  have  been  al- 
ready noticed.  E.  Burke's  Reflections  on  the  Revolution  in 
France  and  other  writings,  J.  ]\Iackintosh's  Vlndicioi  Gallicce, 
Guizot's  History  of  the  English  Revolution  and  Causes  of 
Success  of  the  English  Revolution  of  1640  and  1688  are 
publications  of  the  first  rank.    The  reader  moreover  who  as- 


318  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  XIX« 

pires  to  pursue  an  extended  course  of  reading  m  political 
science  or  political  history  will  find  no  difficulty  in  select- 
ing the  best  works  upon  every  topic  in  either  of  these  de- 
partments. 

In  International  Law,  H.  Wheaton's  History  of  In- 
ternational Law,  and  Elements  of  International  Law 
are  of  the  highest  authority.  T.  D.  Woolsey's  Manual  and 
Text  Book  on  this  topic  is  universally  commended  and  is 
brought  down  to  the  latest  decisions.  G.  Bemis'  Precedents 
of  American  Neutrality  and  Hasty  Recognition  of  Rebel 
Belligerency ;  Letters  On  International  Law  by  "  Histori- 
cus  "  and  M.  Bernard's  British  Neutrality  should  be  con- 
sulted on  this  much  vexed  topic. 

Political  Economy  is  a  science  much  attended  to  in  our 
country  and  indeed  in  all  civilized  countries.  The  science 
of  wealth  and  questions  of  Exchange  and  Finance  must 
necessarily  be  thought  of  by  every  intelligent  man.  The 
newspapers  abound  in  discussions  upon  these  topics,  and 
the  destinies  of  great  political  parties  hinge  upon  them. 
Adam  Smith's  Wealth  of  Nations  is  the  first  in  time  and 
almost  first  in  importance.  J.  S.  Mill's  Principles  of  Po- 
litical Economy  is  a  more  modern  authority.  J.  Ricardo, 
N.  "VV.  Senior,  R.  Whatcly,  H.  Fawcett,  J.  R.  McCul- 
loch,  among  others,  are  all  very  able  writers.  II.  C.  Ca- 
rey, in  Essays  and  his  other  writings  is  the  able  and  in- 
domitable advocate  of  a  decided  Protective  system,  while 
F.  Bastiat,  in  Popular  Fallacies,  etc..  Sophisms,  etc.,  is  its 
scientific  foe.  F.  Bo  wen,  Political  Economy,  and  American 
Political  Economy  is  the  moderate  defender  of  Protection  and 
A.  Perry,  Elements  of  Political  Economy,  is  its  ingenious 
and  apt  opponent.  Sociology  is  a  new  name  for  a  so-called 
science  which  proposes  to  investigate  those  social  conditions 
and  arrangements  whether  natural  or  artificial,  which  af- 
fect the  well-being  of  the  community  as  a  whole  and  that  of 
the  individual  through  the  community.     It  treats  of  ques- 


Chap.  XIX.]  Books  071  Soience  cmd  Ditty.  319 

tions  of  the  public  health,  the  public  morality  and  popular 
education.  Active  and  efficient  societies  are  formed  for 
the  furtherance  of  these  objects,  and  the  reports  and 
treatises  which  they  will  produce  must  soon  become  an  im- 
portant part  of  our  literature.  Treatises  upon  education  both 
special  and  popular  are  very  abundant  in  our  country,  and 
are  brought  before  the  notice  of  all  readers  of  newspapers. 
There  remains  to  be  considered  a  very  large  class  of 
works  of  a  more  or  less  decidedly  practical  character, 
which  in  the  language  of  Bacon  come  home  "  to  men's 
business  and  bosoms."  Many  of  these  works  are  more  or 
less  Ethical  in  their  influence  and  character,  and  may  be 
classed  under  treatises  or  suggestions  relating  to  the  minor 
morals.  They  must  almost  of  necessity  be  Ethical,  for 
all  tliose  writings  which  propose  to  teach  men  how  they 
ought  to  think  and  act  in  res])ect  to  any  matter  whatever 
must  recognize  more  or  less  distinctly  some  standard  of 
duty  or  some  obligation  enforced  by  duty.  But  these 
works  treat  of  the  minor  rather  than  of  the  greater  morals, 
of  the  lesser  interests  and  ends  of  life,  rather  than  of  those 
commanding  objects  and  aims  which  are  universally  and 
seriously  enforced  by  morality  and  religion.  Lord  Bacon's 
Essays,  Civil  and  3IoraJ,  stands  confessedly  at  the  head  of 
all  works  of  this  class  in  English  literature.  It  is  in  a 
sense  properly  taken  as  a  model  for  all,  and  is  one  of  the 
wisest  and  most  thoughtful  books  for  men  of  every  con- 
dition and  every  age.  It  has  been  edited  by  Archbishop 
Whately  with  abundant  comments,  all  of  a  solid  and  in- 
teresting character.  Whately's  edition  may  be  fitly  called 
Bacon  adapted  to  modern  times,  by  a  writer  of  marked  good 
sense.  Whately's  comments  are  never  unworthy  of  Bacon. 
Of  books  of  the  class  we  have  in  mind,  there  are  hundreds 
if  not  thousands  in  the  English  language.  They  are  in  a 
sense  the  legitimate  and  most  characteristic  product  of  the 
practical  tendencies  of  the  English  people.     They  reflect 


320  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xix. 

that  freedom  in  criticism  and  discussion  which  for  so  many 
ages  has  been  asserted  by  English  writers,  enforced  by 
public  opinion  and  secured  by  the  laws.  We  can  only  set 
down  a  few  of  the  best,  somewhat  after  the  order  of  time, 
and  shall  doubtless  omit  scores  if  not  hundreds  of  great 
value.  Roger  Ascham,  The  Schoolmaster;  Toxophilus. 
T.  Fuller,  Holy  and  Profane  State;  Good  Thoughts  in 
Bad  Times.  Sir  T.  Browne,  RcUgio  Medid.  O.  Feltham, 
Resolves,  3Ioral  and  Political,  etc.  Earl  of  Shaftesbury, 
Characteristics.  Daniel  De  Foe,  The  Family  Instructor, 
Political  and  other  Tracts.  D.  Hume,  Essays.  The  Bri- 
tish Essayists  from  Addison  to  V.  Knox.  M.  Montaigne, 
Essays.  I.  AVatts,  On  the  Improvement  of  the  Mind. 
B.  Franklin,  Essays.  William  Cobbett,  3fiscellaneous 
'  Works.  W.  Irving,  The  Sketch  Book,  etc.,  etc.  J.  Den- 
nie.  The  Lay  Preacher.  E.  Sampson,  The  Brief  Rcmark- 
er.  S.  T.  Coleridge,  The  Friend  and  other  works.  J.  Wil- 
son, Noctes  Amhrosianoe  and  other  works.  C.  Lamb,  Essays 
of  Elia.  Leigh  Hunt,  The  Indicator  and  other  M^orks. 
T.  Hood,  Whims  and  Oddities,  and  other  works!  W. 
Hazlitt,  Essays  and  Criticisms.  T.  De  Quincey,  Confes- 
sions of  an  Opium  Eater  and  a  score  of  works  besides.  T. 
Carlyle,  Critical  and  Miscellaneous  Essays,  Sartor  Resar- 
tus,  etc.  J.  Foster,  Essays.  Isaac  Taylor,  Home  Educa- 
tion and  other  works.  W.  Channing,  On  Self-Culture  and 
other  writings.  Anon.,  Self-Formation  or  History  of  the 
Growth  of  an  Individual  Mind.  H.  Taylor,  The  States- 
man and  other  writings.  Arthur  Helps,  Friends  in  Coun- 
cil and  other  works.  Mrs.  Ellis,  Women  of  England,  etc. 
Anon.,  Small  BooJcs  on  great  Subjects.  John  liuskin's 
Writings.  C.  J.  and  A.  Hare,  Guesses  at  Truth.  C.  C. 
Colton,  Lacon.  H.  Davy,  Consolations  in  Travel,  Salmo- 
nia.  L.  Withington,  T/ie  Puritan.  H.  Coleridge,  Essays 
and  Marginalia.  John  Brown,  Ilora'  Subseciva',  or  Spare 
Hours.     H.  B.  Wallace,  Papers  in  Art  and  Criticism.     F. 


Chap.  XIX.]         Boohs  oTi  Science  and  Duty.  321 

Saunders,  Salad  for  the  Solitary,  etc.  G.  Mogridge,  (Old 
Humphrey)  various  works.  D.  M.  Mulock,  A  Woman'^ 
Thoughts  about  Woman.  M.  Fuller  Ossoli,  Papers  on  Lit- 
erature and  Art,  etc.  N.  P.  Willis,  Various  icorks.  W. 
Legget,  Writings.  P.  Bayne,  Essays.  H.  Buslinell,  Work 
and  Play.  H.  W.  Beecher,  Life  Thoughts;  Star  Papers. 
R.  W.  Emei'son,  Conduct  of  Life  and  other  works.  E.  P. 
Whipple,  Essays  and  Reviews.  D.  G.  Mitchell,  (Ik.  Mar- 
vel) Reveries  of  a  Bachelor  and  other  writings.  J.  A.  Froude, 
Short  Studies  on  Great  Subjects.  A.  E,.  Hope,  Book 
about  Dominies.  Book  about  Boys.  D'Arcy  Thompson, 
Day  Dreams  of  a  Schoolmaster  and  other  works.  A.  H. 
Boyd,  {The  Country  Parson)  Miscellaneous  Volumes. 
William  Smith,  Thomdale,  or  the  Conflict  of  Opinions; 
Gravenhurst.     J.  G.  Holland,  Letters  of  Timothy  Titcomb, 

etc. 

21 


CHAPTER  XX. 

RELIGIOUS  BOOKS  AND  SUNDAY  READING. 

We  approach  both  these  topics  with  some  hesitation. 
We  do  not  expect  that  what  we  write  will  be  understood 
by  all  our  readers,  or  will  be  accepted  by  all  who  under- 
stand it.  Very  many  persons  who  are  intelligent  upon  a 
variety  of  other  subjects  never  think  or  read  with  earnest- 
ness upon  religion,  although  in  the  words  of  Daniel  Web- 
ster, "the  noblest  theme  that  can  occupy  the  intellect  of  man 
is  man's  relations  to  God."  Lord  Bacon  also  says  in  sober 
earnestness  that  "Theology  is  the  haven  and  Sabbath  of  all 
man's  contemplations."  Religion  and  its  truths,  its  tlicolo- 
gics  and  its  ethics,  its  histories  and  its  biographies,  its  poetry 
and  its  criticism,  are  despised  by  many  otherwise  well  and 
even  highly  cultured  persons  as  the  offspring  of  a  fond  ima- 
gination, a  credulous  superstition  or  a  timid  traditionalism. 
Or  all  these  are  disliked  as  imposing  unwelcome  restraints 
upon  the  pursuits  and  passions  by  which  too  many  arc 
controlled ;  perhaps  they  are  scorned  with  passionate  con- 
t(;mpt  from  some  inherited  or  conventional  associations. 
There  are  not  a  few  skeptics  or  rejectors  of  Christianity  who 
if  honest  would  be  forced  to  confess  with  Hume,  that  tliey 
had  never  read  the  New  Testament  through  with  intelli- 
gent attention.  On  the  other  hand,  there  arc  not  a  few 
earnestly  and  actively  religious  people  Avho  rarely  read 
earnestly  upon  the  very  subject  whicii  occn]>ics  their  best 
emotions  and  inspires  their  best  activities,  either  because  they 
never  read  ujjon  any  subject  with  intelligence  and  cfR^ct, 
or  because  they  have  been  trained  to  conceive  that  the  ex- 
322 


Chap.  XX.]    ReUglous  Boohs  and  Sunday  Reading.         323 

ercise  of  a  very  active  intelligence  upon  religious  topics  is 
inconsistent  with  warm  emotion  or  a  confiding  faith.  Hence 
the  religious  reading  which  they  allow  themselves  is  be- 
low their  intelligence,  and  done  rather  for  the  purpose  of 
exciting  devotional  feelings  or  spending  a  half  hour  over  a 
quantum  of  religious  phraseology  than  for  the  ends  of  in- 
telligent conviction  and  reasonable  emotion. 

They  read  history,  biography,  novels,  poetry  and  criticism 
on  the  most  liberal  scale  and  with  excited  wakefulness,  but 
their  religious  reading  is  limited  to  one  or  two  books  of  de- 
votion or  a  few  second-rate  biographies  of  second-rate  and 
goodish  people.  Others  perhaps  never  care  or  never  dare 
to  read  any  religious  book  unless  it  has  the  imprimatur  of 
their  own  religious  communion.  The  Romanist  is  by  ne- 
cessity almost  precluded  from  any  other  than  Catholic  lita- 
rature.  If  the  reader  is  a  Methodist  he  is  likely  to  read 
only  such  books  as  are  issued  by  the  "  Book  Concern,^'  if 
a  Presbyterian,  to  believe  only  in  the  blue-backed  volumes 
of  "the  Board  of  Publication,"  if  an  Episcopalian  he  ignores 
all  works  except  those  written  or  sanctioned  by  Churchmen, 
or  if  he  is  a  Liberal  Christian  he  may  have  a  traditional 
and  very  illiberal  contempt  for  every  literary  production 
that  proceeds  from  the  so-called  Orthodox.  A  very  large 
class  of  Christians  are  so  intensely  practical  or  evangelical 
as  to  be  conscientiously  jealous  of  the  exercise  of  earnest 
thinking  upon  religious  truth  or  duty,  and  are  oifended  by 
every  book  which  would  either  awaken  or  stimulate  the  in- 
telligence, or  requires  its  vigorous  exercise  in  order  to  be 
understood.  It  must  be  confessed  that  religious  emotion 
as  such,  like  every  other  description  of  emotion,  is  not  of 
itself  friendly  to  or  promotive  of,  the  exercise  of  intellectual 
energy.  Tiie  fact  has  been  noticed  by  Coleridge  that  the 
fond  indulgence  of  religious  feeling  has  often  brought  a 
species  of  dry  rot  into  a  noble  intellect  by  the  force  of  sim- 
ple stagnation.     We  hold  that  this  is  unnatural  and  abnor- 


324  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xx. 

mal — nay  more,  that  this  happens  not  only  by  error  but  by 
sin,  and  that  as  a  consequence  the  religious  character  itself 
becomes  one-sided  and  degenerate.  We  contend  that  if  a  man 
dwarfs  or  blinds  or  stupefies  his  intellect  in  order  to  attain 
to  earnest  and  sustained  religious  feeling — especially  if  he 
uses  vigorous  thinking  and  earnest  reading  upon  other  top- 
ics and  dares  not  to  do  it  or  is  disinclined  to  do  it  upon  re- 
ligious themes — he  will  sooner  or  later  suifer  lamentably 
in  his  religious  faith  and  fervor.  We  asserfc  that  it  is  the 
duty  of  every  one  who  reads  with  zest  and  curiosity  upon 
other  subjects,  to  read  with  earnestness  and  with  freedom 
upon  religious  themes.  We  would  even  go  farther  and  as- 
sert that  the  cause  of  the  decline  in  the  fervor  of  very  many 
persons  of  active  and  imaginative  minds  is  that  they  do  not 
give  to  religious  subjects  the  same  activity  which  they  be- 
stow upon  subjects  of  inferior  interest.  The  injunction 
"  give  attention  to  reading  "  has  a  wider  reach  and  is  sup- 
ported by  a  greater  variety  of  reasons  than  is  usually  thought. 

If  what  we  have  said  should  have  disturbed  the  feelings 
of  any,  we  hasten  to  relieve  them  by  adding  that  we  do 
not  propose  to  discuss  any  questions  which  relate  directly 
to  special  theological  creeds  or  to  ecclesiastical  or  denomi- 
national divisions.  We  assume  indeed,  as  we  have  already 
explained,  that  the  Christian  History  is  true  and  that  Christ 
is  the  proper  object  of  confidence,  reverence,  and  gratitude. 
This  being  premised,  we  proceed  to  speak  respecting  tlie 
selection  and  reading  of  religious,  i.  e.  Christian  books. 

Religious  books  may  be  divided  into  four  classes :  good 
books,  i.  e.  books  which  are  very  good — goodhh  books — 
books  which  are  good  for  nothing — books  which  are  icorsc 
than  nothing. 

Good  boohs  are  such  as  are  positive  and  conspicuous  for 
one  or  all  of  three  merits — merits  of  thought,  feeling,  and 
diction.  Every  good  book  can  show  a  raison  d'etre.  There 
is  some  occasion  for  its  being  produced  and  read.     Good 


Chap.  XX.]    Religious  BooTcs  and  Sunday  Reading.         325 

books  invariably  bear  marks  of  having  originated  in  a 
gifted  mind — in  a  mind  set  apart  by  nature  or  called  of 
God  to  speak  to  one's  fellow-men  by  reason  of  the  gift 
of  genius  or  of  earnestness.  They  show  the  signs  of  this 
calling  and  these  gifts,  and  awaken  a  response  in  the  ear  and 
the  hearts  of  the  truly  earnest  or  the  truly  cultured  of 
those  who  hear  them,  and  thus  prove  there  was  an  occasion 
for  their  being  written. 

Goodish  books  are  books  of  second-hand  goodness — books 
tliat  are  consciously  or  unconsciously  imitated  from  good  books 
— books  that  repeat  old  thoughts,  by  stupid  and  servile 
copying,  oi*  with  such  original  variations  as  despoil  them 
of  their  freshness  and  life — books  which  seek  to  express 
simple  and  familiar  emotions  without  just  or  real  feeling — 
,  books  which  strain  out  aifected  conceits,  or  extravagant  im- 
agery with  some  empty  ambition  of  originality — books 
whose  authors  are  willing  to  gain  the  admiration  of 
the  uncultured  and  the  half  cultured  by  any  extrava- 
gance of  thought  or  diction.  Above  all,  they  are  books 
which  utter  the  words  of  religious  feeling,  when  the  writer 
does  not  really  possess  it,  or  possessing  it  describes  the  ob- 
jects of  his  excited  emotion  in  borrowed  or  stereotyped 
phraseology.  Such  books  are  deformed  by  more  or  less  of 
cant  in  the  strict  and  proper  acceptation  of  that  term,  as 
characterizing  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  sing  what  another 
sings  heartily  and  sings  well.  Goodish  books  'may  have 
more  or  less  positive  merit,  with  all  their  strained  and  fac- 
titious untruth — they  may  be  eminently  useful  to  readers 
who  do  not  observe  their  defects  or  are  not  offended  by 
them,  who  do  not  require  anything  better,  or  M'ho  may 
have  a  taste  so  perverted  as  to  prefer  them  to  good  books, 
even  though  good  books  would  be  far  better  for  them. 
There  is  unhappily,  in  the  religious  world,  a  very  large 
class  of  books  of  whom  the  remark  of  a  shrewd  observer 
will  hold,  "  men  who  are  simply  and  earnestly  good,  I  like 


326  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xx. 

exceedingly,  but  goodisli  men  or  those  who  put  on  airs  of 
goodness,  not  at  all." 

Religious  books  which  are  good  for  nothing  are  such  as 
are  stupid  in  thought,  feeble  in  emotion,  fiilse  in  imagery, 
vulgar  in  illustration  or  uncouth  and  illiterate  in  diction, 
and  which  are  so  deficient  in  all  these  particulars  as  to  be 
incapable  of  doing  good  to  any  one  which  might  not  be  done 
far  more  efficiently  by  books  that  are  better  or  those  less 
open  to  objection.  Books  of  this  description  are  very  nu- 
merous. They  ai*c  produced  by  the  ton.  They  thrust  them- 
selves in  your  face  in  every  bookseller's  shop.  They  are 
obtruded  upon  your  notice  by  weak  but  well-meaning  peo- 
ple at  every  corner.  That  they  serve  some  useful  purpose 
to  very  many  people  does  not  disprove  tiiat  they  are  good 
for  nothing,  provided  we  can  show  that  a  good  or  a  goodish 
book  would  have  answered  the  same  purpose  better  or 
equally  well. 

Religious  books  that  are  zcorse  than  nothing  are  such  as 
are  positively  offensive  from  defects  so  gross  as  to  be  obvi- 
ous to  people  of  very  moderate  cultivation.  All  books 
belong  to  this  class  which  are  false  in  sentiment,  fraudulent 
by  over-statement  or  by  suppression,  wooden  or  scholastic 
in  phraseology  and  conception,  dishonest  in  the  caricature 
or  misrepresentation  of  opponents  whether  infidel  or  fellow- 
Christian,  unsound  in  reasoning,  hysterical  in  emotion, 
doggerel  in  verse,  or  sensational  and  extravagant  in  prose. 
These  all  dishonor  true  religion  either  by  conspicuous  errors, 
a  bad  spirit,  bad  taste,  bad  manners  or  bad  English.  AVliat- 
ever  partial  or  occasional  good  they  may  seem  to  effect 
among  people  who  are  not  aware  of  their  falsehood,  or  are 
not  oifended  by  their  extravagance,  would  be  done  more 
effectually  by  other  books,  while  the  positive  evil  they 
occasion  to  tiie  bigoted,  the  undevout  and  the  scoffer  is 
fearful  to  think  of. 

Two  questions  here  suggest  themselves  as  worth  the  ask- 


Chap.  XX.]     BcUgious  Boolcs  and  Sunday  Reading.  327 

ing.  Why  is  the  number  of  inferior  religious  books  propor- 
tionately so  great  ?  and  why  arc  such  books  treated  with 
greater  consideration  than  inferior  books  upon  other  sub- 
jects? The  first  of  these  questions  is  easily  answered. 
The  reasons  which  explain  the  production  and  use  of  in- 
ferior books  of  any  description  explain  with  especial  signi- 
ficance the  demand  for  religious  books^  The  demand 
accounts  for  the  sujoply.  Incompetent  men  Avill  write 
mean  Dooks  on  religious  topics,  as  they  do  upon  all  topics, 
with  the  best  intentions  and  with  intentions  which  are 
none  of  the  best,  and  incompetent  judges  will  read  such 
books  without  being  aware  of  their  inferiority,  and  may 
even  prefer  the  inferior  to  the  superior.  The  goodness  of 
the  aim  often  hides  from  the  well-intentioned  author  and 
.  reader  the  essential  inferiority  of  the  author  and  critic.  The 
public  teachers  of  religion  are  also  by  the  necessities  of 
their  profession,  more  or  less  practised  in  literary  composi- 
tion. Very  many  are  surrounded  by  circles  of  kindly- 
disposed  and  even  admiring  friends,  who  feel  a  special  in- 
terest in  everything  which  comes  from  them.  Many  a 
preacher  becomes  an  author  who  has  no  other  call  to  this 
vocation  than  the  call  of  an  admiring  congregation  for  a 
volume  of  discourses,  or  of  sermons  turned  into  lectures  or 
essays.  He  yields  to  the  call,  either  because  he  mistakes 
it  for  the  call  of  a  wider  circle,  or  because  he  desires  to 
gratify  the  kindly  preferences  of  his  friends,  or  because  he 
knows  that  they  will  read  with  a  special  interest  a  tract  or 
book  Avritten  by  himself. 

The  reasons  why  inferior  books  upon  religious  topics  are 
treated  with  especial  forbearance  are  the  following : 

First  of  all,  there  is  the  general  disposition  to  consider 
the  goodness  of  the  end  which  every  such  book  contem- 
plates, and  to  overlook  the  question,  whether  the  book  in 
hand  is  fitted  to  promote  the  end.  Even  though  the  book 
is  painfully  weak  or  commonplace,  or  bristles  with  shock- 


328  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xx. 

iug  extravagances  of  style  and  conception,  it  is  charitably 
said  of  it,  "perhaps  it  may  do  good  with  some  people;"  and 
therefore  is  it  exempt  from  the  criticism  which  it  deserves. 
Those  who  see  its  weakness  allow  it  to  pass — if  they  sym- 
l)athize  with  its  aims,  from  charity — if  they  despise  its  ends, 
from  simple  disdain.  Many  fail  to  see  that  the  book  is 
weak,  because  of  jfheir  interest  in  or  their  contempt  for  these 
ends.  In  view  of  such  considerations  criticism  is  either 
unconsciously  disarmed,  or  distinctly  repressed,  when*  it  is 
called  for. 

It  is  in  place  here  to  notice,  that  motives  which  are  far 
from  being  worthy  often  present  themselves  under  the 
guise  of  an  appeal  to  the  religious  feelings.  A  book  that 
is  written  in  tlie  interest  of  a  religious  sect  or  party,  a  book 
that  is  published  by  our  favorite  publishing  society  or 
which  is  in  any  way  identified  with  our  church  or  denomi- 
nation may  lead  the  critic  and  the  publitj  for  whom  he 
writes  to  be  tolerant  of  defects  which  in  the  books  of 
another  party  or  society  or  church  he  would  be  sharp- 
sighted  to  observe  and  foremost  to  expose. 

It  is  also  to  be  observed  that  not  a  few  good  or  goodish 
people,  in  their  conceptions  and  judgments  of  religious 
literature,  seem  conscientiously  and  even  religiously  to  dis- 
regard the  relation  of  means  to  ends.  They  reason  that 
because  now  and  then  a  weak  book  or  a  weak  and  offensive 
passage  in  a  book  has  caught  the  attention,  or  wakened  a 
•response  of  feeling  in  some  person  who  was  without  re- 
ligious thought  or  feeling, — tlicrefore  no  relation  is  re- 
cognizable between  argument  and  conviction,  persuasion 
and  assent,  eloquence  and  impression,  or  genius  and  edifi- 
cation. Some  religionists  seem  to  labor  under  the  impres- 
sion that  t<^)0  great  a  measure  of  logic,  eloquence  or  genius 
is  not  to  be  desired,  lest  they  should  usurp  tlie  j)lace  of 
mysterious  and  undiscerned  agencies  of  a  higher  character. 
For  this  reason,  though  they,  in  all  cases,  iomewhat  in- 


Chap.  XX.]    Religious  Books  and  Sunday  Heading.  329 

consistently  require  that  the  English  should  be  grammati- 
cal, they  contend  that  the  diction  should  not  be  too  fine  or 
too  eloquent ;  though  they  would  think  it  well  that  there 
should  be  a  certain  degree  of  logical  coherence  and  eloquent 
exposition,  they  are  religiously  offended  if  these  excellencies 
are  too  conspicuous.  That  such  an  attitude  is  purely  sancti- 
monious and  in  so  far  irreligious,  we  shall  waste  no  words 
to  prove.  The  conditions  of  success  are  as  truly  observed 
in  the  sphere  of  religious  thought  and  feeling  as  in  any 
other,  although  they  are  at  times  dispensed  with  or  over- 
borne by  special  interpositions.  Such  interpositions  are  not 
furnished  to  sanction  intellectual  laziness,  or  careless  Eng- 
lish, or  inapt  logic,  much  less  to  justify  those  enormities  of 
platitudinous  commonplace  and  sensational  inflation  which 
are  so  largely  represented  in  some  departments  of  religious 
literature.  For  man  to  crown  his  indolence  or  unculture 
with  the  aureole  of  superior  spiritual  sanctity  is  to  dishonor 
his  Creator  in  the  most  sacred  of  operations,  as  well  to 
dishonor  his  own  human  powers  by  one  of  the  most  de- 
basing of  untruths.  If  there  is  no  connection  between  uu- 
cleanliness  and  godliness  there  can  be  none  between  care- 
less diction,  blundering  logic,  and  tumid  eloquence,  and 
the  special  power  or  presence  of  the  divine  Spirit. 

So  far  is  it  from  being  true  that  earnest  feeling  requires 
or  tends  to  promote  an  inferior  literature,  it  may  be  shown 
that  the  quality  of  religious  literature  Regenerates,  in  con- 
nection with  the  decay  of  religious  earnestness.  While  it 
must  be  conceded  that  the  ends  immediately  proposed  by 
religious  orators,  poets,  and  essayists,  are  practical  rather 
than  literary,  it  is  also  as  true,  that  it  is  only  when  fiith  is 
earnest  and  zeal  is  ardent,  that  eloquence  is  overpowering, 
poetry  sublime,  and  argument  irresistible,  because  it  is  only 
at  such  times  that  the  noblest  human  energies  are  strongly 
aroused  by  the  highest  objects.  It  is  only  by  men  thor- 
oughly aroused  and  inspired  that  the  great  works  of  reli- 


330  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xx. 

gious  literature  have  been  produced.  But  when  faith  and 
fervor  decline,  then  twaddle  and  cant  take  their  place,  reli- 
gious books  abound  in  imitated  thoughts,  in  solemn  forma- 
lisms, in  sanctimonious  utterances  and  tiresome  platitudes. 
It  is  at  such  times  that  books  are  manufactured  to  order, 
not  produced  by  inspiration.  They  are  brought  into  being 
because  godliness  tends  to  reputation  or  to  "  gain,"  not  be- 
cause the  writer  "  believes  and  therefore  speaks."  No  mis- 
take can  be  more  serious  than  to  suppose  that  the  production 
of  shoals  of  inferior  religious  books  is  a  sign  of  religious 
progress.     The  exact  opposite  may  be  true. 

But  enough  of  this  fiiult-finding :  It  Avere  wiser  and 
more  useful  to  notice  some  of  the  signs  or  tests  by  which 
good  religious  books  can  be  distinguished  from  those  which 
are  inferior  or  worthless. 

Good  religious  books  should  have  the  stamp  of  individu- 
ality. They  should  express  the  writer's  individual 
thoughts  and  feelings.  They  should  come  from  a  person 
who  has  something  to  say  which  is  his  own,  and  is  neither 
the  aifectcd  nor  the  unconscious  repetition  of  the  thoughts 
of  another.  This  is  the  true  conception  of  what  we  call 
originality  and  freshness,  which  are  closely  allied  to  genius. 
An  author  may  be  defective  in  respect  to  literary  culture, 
and  range  of  knowledge,  and  yet  if  he  has  these,  he  is 
usually  worth  reading.  The  sources  of  fresh  and  individual 
thoughts  on  religious^  themes,  are  more  universally  ac- 
cessible to  all  men,  ttmii  in  respect  to  any  other,  beaiuse  they 
are  all  found  in  God  and  nature,  in  Christ  and  tlie  Scrip- 
tures; and  in  the  soul  of  man  as  moved  by  each  and  all  of 
these  objects.  A  devout  thought  if  it  is  a  writer's  own,  is 
often  a  stroke  of  genius.  Hence  the  power  of  such  writers 
as  Bunyan  and  Defoe.  But  real  originals  should  be  distin- 
guished from  the  factitious  and  imitated.  As  real  origi- 
nality in  religion  is  always  fresh  and  dewy,  and  is  always 
greatly  to  be  desired — so  the  factitious  is   to   be   avoided 


Chap.  XX.]    Religious  Boolcs  and  Sunday  Heading.  331 

and  rejected.  The  sensational,  the  strained,  and  the  bizarre 
are  often  present  in  religious  writing  for  the  reason  that 
many  authors  seek  to  shun  the  common  place,  by  running 
into  a  variety  of  unnatural  extravagances  and  excesses. 
Hence  the  intellectual  antics  and  vulgarities  of  every  de- 
scription which  infest  the  pulpit  and  degrade  religious  books 
and  newspapers.  A  fresh  writer  like  Coleridge,  Carlyle, 
Emerson,  llobertson  or  Ruskin,  cannot  appear  without  ex- 
citing a  host  of  imitators  in  style  and  illustration.  Many 
in  almost  every  religious  congregation  are  agape  for  what 
they  call  or  conceive  to  be  originality  in  a  preacher.  It 
should  ever  be  remembered  that  while  in  all  departments 
of  writing,  sincerity,  (and,  therefore,  simplicity,)  is  a  sign 
of  genius,  this  is  emphatically  true  in  religious  writing. 

Another  sign  of  a  good  religious  book  is  its  freedom  from 
phraseology  that  is  needlessly  technical  and  stereotyped. 
Theology  and  religion  must  certainly  -have  their  appropriate 
terms;  truths  and  emotions  that  are  so  marked  and  uniform 
must  necessarily  shape  for  themselves  certain  words  with  a 
fixed  and  definite  import.  To  those  persons  to  whom  this 
import  is  unfamiliar  or  distasteful  these  terras  must  seem 
strange.  As  the  terms  tliat  are  necessary  in  music  or  art  or 
any  of  the  sciences  are  strange  and  even  uncouth  to  those 
who  concern  themselves  with  neither — as  the  language  of 
the  lover  is  an  unknown  speech  to  those  who  have  never  felt 
his  emotions,  so  must  the  language  of  the  humble  and  de- 
vout be  offensive  to  the  proud  and  the  godless.  The  in- 
cubus upon  religious  literature  is  not  the  use  of  such  terms 
when  they  do  express  thought  and  feeling,  but  when  they 
fail  to  express  either.  The  same  evil  ensues  when  terms 
of  thouglit  are  used  simply  to  manifest  feeling  with  little 
or  no  intelligence,  and  when  customary  phrases  are  repeated 
with  little  or  no  significance.  The  repetition  of  "  stock 
phrases"  such  as  are  taken  from  the  Scriptures  out  of  all 
proper  connection,  or  are  borrowed  from  the  current  private 


332  Books  arid  Reading.  [Chap.  xx. 

dialect  of  any  religious  communion,  is  what  we  have  already 
noticed,  as  the  offense  of  multitudes  of  religious  books  to 
men  of  culture  and  good  sense.  The  sensitive  and  sensi- 
ble John  Foster  was  so  painfully  affected  by  this  feature  of 
much  of  the  religious  literature  of  his  time  that  he  made  it 
the  theme  of  one  of  the  ablest  of  his  Essays.  An  important 
point  will  be  gained  when  this  conventional  and  factitious 
religious  dialect  is  discarded  by  all  good  writers.  This  re- 
sult will  be  hastened  if  buyers  and  readers  make  it  a  test 
of  a  good  religious  book  that  it  is  free  from  technical  or 
ranting  phraseology. 

A  good  religious  book  is  always  stimulating  to  thought 
and  elevating  to  the  imagination.  A  book  that  docs  not 
make  us  think  and  feel  and  aspire — that  does  not  exalt  us 
by  the  grandeur  of  its  objects  and  ennoble  us  by  the  aspi- 
rations of  duty,  that  does  not  aid  us  to  soar  upwards  to- 
wards God  is  not  a  good  religious  book  however,  pious  its 
tone  or  pretentious  its  phraseology.  It  is  the  appropri- 
ate function  of  a  good  religious  book  to  accomplish  all 
these  objects,  and  whatever  book  fails  of  these  ends  cannot 
be  good  of  its  kind.  When  we  say  that  a  good  book  should 
stimulate  thought  we  do  not  mean  that  it  should  be 
scholastic  or  theological  or  obtrusively  intellectual  ;  least 
of  all  that  it  should  swell  with  the  meretricious  airs  of 
what  is  called  originality ;  but  we  do  intend  that  it  should 
oifer  thoughts  which  are  fitted  to  stir  and  quicken  while 
they  overawe  and  sober  the  intellect.  We  do  not  mean  that 
these  thoughts  should  be  other  than  praetic;al,  for  truths  of 
]>ractice  and  duty  especially  when  thoy  search  the  heart 
and  purify  the  motives  are  of  all  truths  the  most  quicken- 
ing, but  we  do  intend  that  they  should  take  hold  of  the 
mind  with  a  strong  and  definite  grasp.  When  we  say  a 
good  book  should  elevate  the  imagination  we  do  not  intend 
that  it  should  make  man  proud,  but  that  it  should  make 
him  humble.    This  it  will  do  most  effectually  if  it  confronts 


CBAt-.  XX.]      Religious  Books  and  Sunday  Reading,       333 

him  with  ideas  that  take  away  the  thoughts  of  self,  that 
subdue  him  to  repentance  while  they  encourage  him  to 
faith.  It  is  also  eminently  fitting  that  a  good  religious 
book  should  have  all  the  accessories  which  are  found  in  a 
pure  and  elevated  diction ;  that  it  should  suggest  no  offen- 
sive or  degrading  associations ;  that  it  should  be  free  from 
all  suggestions  of  coarseness,  egoism  or  vulgarity.  It  is 
natural  to  add  that  a  book  may  be  a'  good  book  for  one. 
man  which  is  not  good  for  another,  and  that  no  man  is 
bound  by  religious  duty  to  make  a  book  seem  good  to  him- 
self which  reasonably  offends  his  judgment,  his  taste  or 
his  imagination. 

Of  the  few  classes  of  religious  books  of  which  we  may 
venture  to  speak,  we  name  first  those  which  relate  to 
Theism  and  the  Christian  History.  With  subjects  of  this 
class  every  reader  should  be  more  or  less  conversant,  and 
inasmuch  as  the  methods  of  discussing  them  have  materi- 
ally changed  within  the  present  century,  there  is  occasion 
for  careful  selection  if  we  would  read  the  books  which 
are  best  fitted  for  the  present  generation.  While  in  one 
sense  it  cannot  be  conceded  that  scientific  Atheism,  Pan- 
theism or  Infidelity  are  more  formidable  at  present  than 
formerly,  inasmuch  as  true  science  and  a  thoroughly  scien- 
tific spirit  are  favorable  to  neither,  it  cannot  be  denied 
that  not  a  few  are  shaken  in  their  faith  in  both  Theism 
and  Christianity,  by  what  they  regard  as  the  teachings  and 
deductions  of  Science.  Upon  the  existence  and  moral 
Government  of  a  Personal  God  may  be  consulted,  the  so- 
called  Burnett  Prize  Essays  of  1854,  z,  e.  R.  A.  Thomp- 
son's Christian  Theism  and  J.  TuUoch's  Theism.  To  these 
may  be  added  J.  Buchanan's  Modern  Atheism.  The  so- 
called  Bridgewater  Treatises  are  all  very  able  works  of  their 
kind,  although  their  science  is  a  little  antiquated. 

C.  Babbage,  Ninth  Bridgewater  Treatise,  F.  Wharton, 
Theism   and   Skepticism,  W.    Whewell,  Indications    of  a 


334  Books  and  Beading.  [Chap.  xx. 

Creator,  McCosh  and  Dickie,  Typical  Forms  and  Special 
Ends  in  Creation,  W.  Paley,  Natural  Theology,  Lord 
Brougham,  Discourses  on  Natural  Theology,  G.  Berkeley, 
The  3finute  Philosopher,  F.  Bowen,  Lowell  Lectures,  I. 
Kant,  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  T.  Chalmers,  Natural 
Theology,  B.  Pascal,  Thoughts  on  Religion,  F.  Burr,  Ecce 
Caelum,  J.  Butler,  Analogy  of  Natural  and  Revealed  Reli- 
gion, N.  W.  Taylor,*  On  (lie  Moral  Government  of  God,  J. 
McCosh,  On  tlie  3IetJiod  of  the  Divine  Government,  H.  L. 
Mansel,  The  Limits  of  Religious  Thought,  F.  D.  Maurice, 
What  is  Revelation,  Goldwin  Smith,  Rational  Religion,  H. 
Calderwood,  Philosophy  of  the  Infinite,  A.  T.  Bledsoe, 
Tlieodicy,  J.  Young,  Evil  not  from  God,  A.  S.  Farrar, 
Science  and  Theology,  The  Duke  of  Argyll,  The  Reign  of 
Law,  J.  D.  Morcll,  The  Philosophy  of  Religion,  S.  T. 
Coleridge,  Aids  to  Reflection,  are  all  worth  reading. 

Upon  the  evidences  of  Christianity  may  be  named  W, 
Paley,  The  Evidences  of  Ch'isHanity,  T.  Chalmers,  Chris' 
tianify,  from  the  Ed.  Encyclopedia,  W.  L.  Alexander, 
Christ  and  Christianity,  "  Ecce  Homo,''  J.  R.  Beard,  Voices 
of  the  Church  in  reply  to  D.  F.  Strauss,  G.  Uhlhorn, 
Modern  Representations  of  the  Life  of  Jesus,  T."  Erskine, 
Remarks  on  the  Internal  Evidence  of  Revealed  Religion, 
(very  good),  G.  P.  Fisher,  Essays  upon  Supernatural  Chris- 
tianity, (good  on  modern  critical  objections,)  J.  Young, 
The  Christ  of  Ilistory,  (very  good),  C.  Tischcndorf,  WJtcn 
were  our  Gospels  tvritfcn/  R.  AVhately,  Historic  PouMs, 
J.  B.  Walker,  Philosophy  of  the  Plan  of  Salvation  ;  Phil- 
osophy of  Skepticism,  A.  Norton,  The  Genuineyiess  of  iJic 
Gospels,  (clear  and  solid), W.  E.  Channing,  The  Evidences 
of  Christianity,  A.  P.  Peabody,  Christianity  the  Rt'li'/ion 
ctf  Nature,  J.  Freeman  Clarke,  Steps  of  Belief,  J.  B.  Moz- 
loy,  Lectures  on  Miracles,  R.  C.  Trench,  Notes  on  Mira- 
cles, Aids  to  Faith,  Tracts  for  Priests  and  People,  II.  Bush- 
nell,  Nature  and  the  Supernatural,  (eloquent  and  eleva- 


Chap,  xx]      Religious  BooJcs  and  Sunday  Reading.       335 

ting),  B.  F.  Westcott,  The  Gospel  of  the  Resurrection,  O. 
Gregory,  Evidences  of  Revealed  Religion,  D.  Wilson, 
Evidences  of  the  Christian  Religion,  M.  Hopkins,  Evi- 
dences of  Christ iajutg,  W.  Palcy,  HorcB  Paulince,  J. '  J. 
Blunt,  Undesigned  Coincidences,  H.  Rogers,  Eclipse  of 
Faith ;  Defence  of  do.  (against  F.  W.  Newman),  Albert 
Barnes,  Evidences  of  Christianity  in  the  VMh  Century,  E. 
Dodge,  Evidences  of  Christianity,  Isaac  Taylor,  The  Re- 
storation of  Beluf,  R.  Vanghan,  The  Way  of  Rest,  C.  Wal- 
worth, The  G-entle  Skeptic,  N.  Wiseman,  Lectures  on 
Science  and  Revealed  Religion,  J.  Leland,  Deistical  Wri- 
ters, A.  S.  Farrar,  Critical  History  of  Free  Thought,  The 
Boston  Lectures  on  Christianity  and  Skepticism. 

Christian  believers  of  all  sects  and  all  shades  of  opinion 
agree  in  recommending  the  critical  and  historical  study  of 
the  Scriptures  as  of  the  highest  interest  and  importance. 
Indeed  many,  not  to  say  most  of  those  even  who  reject  the 
claims  of  the  Scriptures  to  a  supernatural  origin  and 
autliority,  do  not  hesitate  to  accord  the  highest  significance 
to  these  books  as  literature  and  as  movers  of  opinion  and 
feeling  in  all  ages.  Whatever  in  books  or  reading  promises 
to  cast  any  light  upon  the  history  and  antiquities,  the  sen- 
timents and  opinions,  the  ficts  and  characters  which  we 
find  in  these  books,  is  generally  acknowledged  to  be  of  the 
highest  significance  and  interest.  This  estimate  is  neither 
vague  nor  superficial,  nor  is  it  held  as  a  tradition  or  a  truism. 
It  is  not  tlie  result  of  a  blind  or  fond  preference,  but  of 
enlightened  and  rational  judgment.  The  attacks  of  unbelief 
upon  the  Christian  history,  the  movements  of  a  negative 
nuti-supernaturalism  against  the  positive  acceptance  of  the 
supernatural  and  the  miraculous,  have  involved  the  sharp- 
est historical  criticism  of  every  point  pertaining  to  the  Scrip- 
ture narratives  and  have  invested  with  deep  interest  every 
discussion  and  every  treatise  tliat  relate  to  subjects  of  this 
Bort.      Who   was    Moses?      Whence    came    the    Jewish 


33G  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap,  xx, 

economy?  "Who  was  David?  How  did  it  happen  that 
he  wrote  such  wonderful  poetry  and  antLuipated  so  great  a 
successor  in  his  own  lineage  ?  Who  were  the  Prophets  ? 
Whence  came  their  insight  into  the  moral  and  religious  im- 
port of  passing  events  and  their  capacity  to  exhort  and 
rebuke  with  such  penetrating  truth  and  startling  energy? 
Whence  their  foresight  into  the  future  and  their  rapt 
anticipations  of  the  emergence  and  the  triumphs  of  a  spirit- 
ual kingdom  of  God  ?  Again,  who  was  Jesus  ?  What  were 
His  estimates  and  His  assertions  concerning  Himself?  How 
did  He  justify  and  enforce  these  claims  ?  At  what  points 
did  He  touch,  and  how  did  He  adapt  Himself  to  the  great 
movements  that  preceded  His  own  times  ?  By  what  means 
did  He  lay  hold  of  the  thought  and  feeling  of  all  succeeding 
generations?  These  questions  are  not  to  be  sot  aside  by 
the  intelligent  reader  as  the  hackneyed  themes  of  i)ulpit 
harangues,  nor  as  truisms  that  are  become  familiar  to  every 
Sunday-school  child,  nor  as  convenient  topics  for  shallow 
platitudes,  or  the  croaking  jeremiads  of  morbid  or  one-sided 
devotees,  but  they  are  inquiries  which  are  fitted  to  arouse 
the  curiosity  and  to  hold  the  attention  of  every  manly 
thinker  and  reader.  "  'Tis  true,  'tis  pity,  and  \n{y  'tis, 
'tis  true"  that  multitudes  who  read  intelligently  and 
thoughtfully  upon  other  subjects,  thrust  aside  these  ques- 
tions with  contemptuous  disdain,  or  accept  with  a  grateful 
wnd  silly  confidence  the  oracular  dicta  of  extemporizing 
dogmatists.  It  is  also  true  that  many  who  believe  in  a 
supernatural  Christ  do  not  appreciate  the  intellectual  reach 
and  import  of  their  faith.  The  Serii)tures  are  perused  by 
multitudes  in  a  negligent,  mechanical  and  traditional  spirit 
which  involves  little  intelligence  and  less  curiosity.  Even 
the  great  mass  of  those  who  aspire  to  interpret  them  to 
others  have  limited  conceptions  of  the  historical  and  intel- 
lectual wealth  of  the  wonderful  writings  which  they  at- 
tempt to  expound.     Of  books  relating  to  the  Scriptures 


Chap.  XX.]    Rdigious  Books  and  Sunday  Reading.        337 

it  is  emphatically  true  that  there  are  a  few  which  a?*^  books, 
and  multitudes  which  arc  no  books,  but  mere  copies  and 
dilutions  of  those  which  arc  books  indeed.  Of  the  best  of 
them  it  may  be  .said  that  they  require  a  more  awakened 
intelligence  and  a  more  vivid  imagination  than  often 
accompany  their  use,  however*  diligent  and  well  intended 
this  may  be. 

The  following  may  be  named  as  useful  aids  for  the  Eng- 
lish reader  in  the  general  study  of  the  Scriptures.  We 
omit  the  notice  of  commentaries  of  every  kind  for  the  rea- 
sons already  given.  W.  Smith's  Bible  Dictionary,  4  Vols., 
is  a  work  which  stands  foremost  as  an  encyclopedia  of 
biblical  history  and  criticism.  The  edition  by  IT.  B. 
Hackett  and  E.  A.  Abbot  is  the  best.  S.  W.  Barnum's 
Compreliensive  Dictionary  of  the  Bible  is  an  extensive  and 
excellent  dictionary  founded  on  Smith  with  many  valua- 
ble additions.  Eitlier  of  these  works  may  take  the  place 
of  many  separate  treatises  on  the  separate  books  of  the 
Scriptures,  as  well  as  upon  Scriptural  Geography,  History 
and  Antiquities.  J.  McClintosk  and  J.  Strong's  Encyclo- 
pedia of  Biblical  Literature,  when  complete  will  be  an  ex- 
cellent book  of  reference,  P.  Fairbairn's  Imperial  Bible 
Dictionary,  and  J.  Kitto's  Cyclopedia  of  Biblical  Literature 
(edited  by  W.  L.  Alexander)  arc  of  the  highest  authority. 
We  have  named  already  the  histories  by  Ewald  and 
Stanley,  also  ITelon''s  Pilgrimage,  and  Herder's  Spirit  of 
Hehreiv  Poetry,  all  of  which  are  as  relevant  to  the  student 
of  the  Scriptures  as  to  the  reader  of  history.  Robinson's 
Biblical  Geography,  Stanley's  Sinai  and  Palestine,  and 
Thomson's  The  Land  and  the  Booh  should  be  named  also  in 
this  connection.  H.  C.  Conant's  History  of  the  English 
Bible,  and  B.  F.  Westcott's  History  of  the  English  Bible, 
are  books  of  authority,  G.  F.  Townsend',s  Xhe  Bible  in 
Chronological  order,  H.  Alford's  How  to  Study  the  Neio 
Testament,  B.  F.  Westcott's  Stud;y  of  the  Gospels,  S.  J. 
22 


338  Books  and  Heading.  [Chap.  xx. 

Andrews'  Life  of  our  Lord,  A.  Neander's  Life  of  Christ 
and  Planting  and  Training  of  the  Chm'ch,\{.  J.  Conybeare's 
and  J.  T.  Howson's  Life  and  Epistles  of  St.  Paul,  E.  H. 
Pluniptre's  Christ  and  Christendom,  E.  Do  Presseuse's  Je- 
sus Christ  and  The  Religions  before  Christ,  C.  Hurdwick's 
Christ  and  other  Masters,  TP.  Lewis,  The  Divine  Human  in 
the  Scriptures  are  all  works  of  interest  and  authority.  The 
Psalms  chronologically  arranged  hg  Four  Friends.  J.  Mur- 
dock's  The  Ncio  Testament  from  the  Sgriac,  The  Transla- 
tions of  the  Psalms  and  other  books  of  the  Old  Testament 
and  of  the  whole  of  the  New,  by  G.  R.  Noyes,  are  valuable 
auxiliaries  in  the  study  of  the  Bible. 

In  respect  to  books  of  edification  and  devotion  a  few 
hints  may  be  allowed  without  overstepping  the  rules  which 
we  have  prescribed  to  ourselves,  or  offending  the  preposses- 
sions of  any  religious  communion.  No  man  need,  we 
would  almost  say  no  man  should,  read  books  which  contain 
few  clear  and  definite  thoughts  or  whose  thoughts  are  not 
elevating  and  quickening.  There  is  nothing  more  deaden- 
ing to  the  religious  sensibilities  or  more  depressing  to  the 
whole  character  than  the  attempt  to  arouse  spiritual  feeling 
by  a  devotional  book  which  is  stupid,  weak  or  belittling. 
It  is  difficult 'enough  for  the  soul  when  it  is  aided  by  every 
accessory  to  rise  in  spiritual  flights  or  to  keep  those  heights 
whi(^h  it  is  competent  to  gain.  It  is  doubly  foolish  for  it 
to  encumber  or  degrade  itself  by  any  superfluous  hindran- 
ces. A  devotional  and  practical  manual  should  have  an 
intellectual  as  well  as  a  spiritual  tone,  for  in  order  to  gain 
cdifioation  and  elevation  for  the  feelings  the  intellect  must 
be  quickened  and  refreshed.  Next,  devotional  works 
sliould  not  only  be  stimulating  to  thouglit,  but  they  should 
be  elevating  in  style  and  imagery.  Tins  is  eminently  true 
of  hymns  and  sacred  poetry.  Poundell  Palmer's  Book 
of  Praise,  and  many  choice  collections  from  Latin  and  Ger- 
man hymns  have  brought  within  the  reach  of  every  earnest 


Chap.  XX.]         Heligious  Books  and  Sunday  Reading.     339 

Christian  the  means  of  satisfying  his  taste  while  they  culti- 
vate the  spiritual  feelings  or  express  them  in  acts  of  wor- 
ship. Watts,  Doddridge,  Ken,  Cowper,  and  Heber,  C. 
Wesley,  Bonar,  C.  Elliott,  R.  Palmer  and  many  others 
have  given  us  too  many  pure  and  high-toned  hymns  to 
make  it  necessary  now  to  resort  to  religious  doggerel.  The 
most  elevated  moods  and  attitudes  of  the  soul  should  be 
honored  as  well  as  sustained  by  the  choicest  accessories  of 
language  and  rhythm.  Good  religious  poetry  and  biogra- 
phy usually  serve  most  effectually  the  purposes  of  edifica- 
tion and  devotion.  The  Confessions  of  St.  Augustine, 
The  Imitation  of  Christ,  Taylor's  Holy  Living  and.  Dy- 
ing, ■  Bp.  Wilson's  Sacra  Privata  and  Maxims  of  Piety 
and  Christianity,  The  Whole  Duty  of  31an,  Baxter's 
Saints'  Rest,  Howe's  Blessedness  of  the  Righteous,  and 
W.  Law's  Serious  Call  have  stood  the  test  of  time.  Ar- 
nold's Sermons  on  the  Christian  Life,  Bushnell's  Sermons 
for  the  New  Life,  C.  J.  Vaughan's  well  known  Vol- 
umes Christ  theUght,  etc,  Hopkins'  Lessons  from  the  Cross, 
Taylor's  Christian  Aspects  of  Faith  and  Duty  are  speci- 
mens of  varied  types  of  modern  practical  works. 

A  word  or  two  may  be  added  touching  reading  for 
Sundays.  We  trust  we  shall  offend  none  of  the  advocates 
for  the  strictest  religious  use  of  the  Lord's  Day,  when  we 
suggest  that  every  reader  should  make  a  business  and  a 
conscience  of  having  his  Sunday  reading  intellectually  pro- 
fitable and  stimulating  as  well  as  spiritually  devout. 
Laziness  and  dawdling  have  no  affinity  with  true  worship 
or  the  girding  up  of  the  inner  man  for  the  moral  and  re- 
ligious conflicts  of  the  succeeding  week-days.  Mysticism, 
pietism  and  asceticism  all  weaken  the  manhood  and  so  bring 
insidious  poison  into  the  ethicaj  and  religious  life.  The 
exercise  of  the  Intellect  on  some  question  in  theology, 
some  scriptural  exposition,  or  Christian  history,  some 
quickening   biography  or  Christian  poem,  and  doing  this 


340  Books  and.  Reading.  [Chap.  xx. 

earnestly  and  systematically  is  greatly  to  be  recommended 
in  place  of  the  desultory  meditation,  the  reading  of  goodish 
books,  and  the  sometime?  not  even  goodish  religious  news- 
papers, or  the  mciiningless  religious  gossip  which  use  up 
and  degrade  so  many  bright  hours  of  so  many  Sundays. 
The  mechanic  and  laborer,  the  clerk  and  the  apprentice, 
the  merchant  and  the  professional  man,  every  one  who  is  so 
far  subjected  to  task  work  as  to  find  little  time  for  contin- 
uous reading  on  week-days  ought  to  make  his  Sundays  as 
available  as  possible  for  intellectual  excitement  and  en- 
larged information  upon  religious  themes  as  well  as  for 
simple  edification.  Let  such  seek  in  their  religious  reading 
on  Sundays  for  invigorating  thoughts,  for  valuable  informa- 
tion, for  elevating  impressions  of  character,  for  lofty  senti- 
ments of  resolve  and  aspiration,  with  which  to  store  the  mind 
for  the  week  of  conflict  and  world! incss,  of  temptation  and 
meanness  to  which  they  will  certainly  be  exposed.  No  classes 
of  subjects  are  so  suitable  for  Sunday  reading  in  combin- 
ing rest  and  refreshment  with  elevating  and  stimulating 
influences  as^good  religious  biography,  enlightened  and 
liberal  church  history  and  superior  religious  poetry. 
No  subject  needs  attention  so  much  from  the  more  gifted  and 
best  cultured  minds,  as  the  preparation  of  religious  books  for 
Sunday  use,  that  the  day  may  be  set  apart  from  other  days 
not  only  by  its  appropriately  religious  duties,  but  may 
become  more  eflec'nally  a  day  for  spiritual  culture  in  its 
more  Cilarged  and  highest  signification.  An  attempt  has 
been  made  to  provide  a  Sunday  Library,  on  this  tlieory> 
by  the  publishers  jNIacmillan,  which  may  enable  the  read- 
er to  understand  our  ideal.  This  ideal  other  publishers  and 
writers  may  more  perfectly  realize.  These  hints  are  all 
that  we  dare  allow  ourselves  upon  a  subject  in  regard  to 
which  opinions  differ  so  widely  and  suspicions  and  offense 
may  be  so  easily  aroused. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

NEWSPAPERS  AND  PERIODICALS. 

The  mpid  growth  and  the  enormous  increase  of  News- 
papers and  Periodical  journals  make  it  necessary  to  discuss 
them  separately,  freely  and  at  some  length.  With  very 
many  persons  they  have  very  largely  taken  the  place  of 
books  and  have  induced  peculiar  habits  of  reading  and  of 
thinking,  which  modify  the  estimate  and  the  use  that  are 
accorded  to  the  books  which  continue  to  be  read.  There  are 
many  persons  now  living,  who  were  bred  in  the  wealthiest 
and  most  accessible  country  towns  even  of  New-England, 
who  can  remember  when  the  most  intelligent  families  were 
content  with  a  single  weekly  newspaper,  issued  from  the 
nearest  city  or  shire  town.  Perhaps  a  religious  weekly  was 
added,  after  religious  newspapers  began  to  be  published. 
One  or  two  households  besides  that  of  the  clergyman  or 
lawyer  might  take  a  Monthly  as  the  Analectic  3Iagazine, 
or  possibly  a  Quarterly  as  the  newly  initiated  North 
Anterican  Revieiv  ;  or  perhaps  one  family  read  the  Lon- 
don Quarterly  and  another  the  Edinburgh,  which  were 
then  reproduced,  the  one  in  drab,  and  the  other  in  blue  and 
yellow.  A  daily  newspaper  except  in  the'  large  commer- 
cial cities  was  unknown  and  unthought  of,  and  a  copy 
rarely  found  its  way  into  the  most  accessible  towns  of  the 
largest  size.  A  Semi-weekly  New  York  or  Boston  Adver- 
tiser, or  a  Philadelphia  Gazette,  was  the  height  of  luxury 
in  the  country  towns. 

But  all  this  is  now  bravely  changed  in  England  and 
America — so  far  as  newspapers  are  concerned,  more  em- 

341 


b\"i  Books  and  Beading.  [Chap.  Xxl 

phaticiilly  in  America  than  in  England.  The  United 
States  is  the  paradise  of  newspapers,  if  a  rank  and  rapii 
growtli  indicates  a  paradise.  A  daily  newspaper  has  be- 
come a  necessity  of  life  to  every  city  and  every  extem- 
porized village  on  the  extreme  frontiers  of  civilization.  As 
a  medium  for  learning  and  telling  news  and  for  the  mann- 
facture  and  the  retail  of  gossip,  the  newspaper  has  taken 
the  place  of  the  fountain  and  the  market-place  of  olden 
times ;  and  in  times  more  recent,  of  the  town-i)ump,  the 
grocery  and  the  exchange ;  as  well  as  of  the  court-house 
and  the  cross-roads  of  a  more  scattered  population.  AVe 
cannot  finish  our  breakfast*  w-ithout  the  local  daily,  whether 
it  be  metropolitan  or  provincial.  If  we  do  business  in  the 
city  and  sleep  in  the  country,  w^e  must  despatch  two  or 
three  dailies  on  our  way  to  the  office  or  the  counting-room, 
and  we  reconsider  and  review  the  day  by  a  glance  at  the 
evening  journals,  f  Instead  of  reading  books,  many  read 
reviews  of  bookg;  instead  of  patiently  perusing  history, 
many  cram  from  summaries  or  digests  in  the  form  of 
partisan  or  critical  articles.  J  Every  leading  monthly  has 
its  serial  novel  with  which  to  tantalize  tlie  reader  and  to- 
prolong  the  tale;  which  frequently  })reaks  off  at  an  exciting 
crisis,  in  order  to  hold  the  talc  and  the  periodical  promi- 
nently before  the  minds  of  the  greatest  number  of  readers. 
Brilliant  poems  are  secured  to  sell  a  single  number.  Tell- 
ing articles  on  polities,  finance  and  theology  are  no  longer 
published  in  pamphlets  as  formerly,  but  they  are  sought  for 
to  give  character  to  a  Quarttn-ly.  Editors'  "  book  tables," 
"ciisy  chairs,"  "quarterly  or  monthly  summaries"  are  relied 
upon  to  indicate,  or  regulate,  the  current  of  j)ublic  opinion, 
as  well  as  for  the  circulation  of  a  variety  of  gossip  and  the 
discharge  of  any  redundant  editorial  humor,  which  is 
various  in  the  quality  of  its  efFervescence  and  pungency. 
The  shy  girl  of  the  country,  and  the  bold  girl  of  the  town, 
the  fast  girl  of  the  period  and  the  brassy  girl  of  the  pro- 


Chap,  xxi.]         Newspapers  and  Periodieals.  343 

menade  all  study  the  fashions  in  some  newspaper  or  maga- 
zine, to  which  are  appended  a  flashy  poem,  a  sensational 
tale  and  a  flaunting  essay.  To  meet  the  wants  of  those 
whose  intellectual  digestion  is  weak,  but  whose  moral  sense 
is  scrupulous,  newspapers  of  a  very  light  pabulum  are 
furnished,  strongly  flavored  with  a  tremendously  exciting 
story  and  several  highly  exalted  essays  and  extracts  of 
wonderful  adventures ;  and  these  papers  penetrate  all  parts 
of  the  country,  by  the  force  of  enterprise  and  effrontery. 
The  fast  life  which  we  are  rightly  accused  of  living  is 
rendered  trebly  fast  by  the  number  of  newspapers  and 
journals,  w^hich  allow  us  no  repose  when  we  seem  to  be  at 
leisure- either  for  a  cheerful  conversation  with  our  fellows, 
or  for  a  quiet  chat  with  ourselves  or  with  quiet  and  elevat- 
ing books.  The  Home  Library  has  become  a  place  in 
Avhich  to  read  newspapers  and  periodicals,  and  sometimes 
its  shelves  contain  little  more  than  the  bound  volumes  of 
the  quarterlies  or  monthlies  which  a  few  years  have  ac- 
cumulated. 

Inasmuch  as  people  will  read  newspapers  and  journals 
as  well  as  books,  and  often  in  the  place  of  books,  it  seems 
worth  the  while  and  almost  necessary  to  offer  some  hints  in 
respect  to  their  value  and  the  best  or  least  harmful  way 
in  which  they  can  be  used.  We  begin  with  the  Quarterly 
and  Monthly  journals.  ^ 

The  modern  Quarterlies  when  they  came  into  being  were 
an  inevitable  necessity.  The  Edinburgh  Review  appeared 
as  the  organ  of  a  liberal  and  progressive  literary  and  politi- 
cal party,  and  it  fitly  ushered  in  the  present  century.  The 
zeal  and  boldness  of  tiie  Edinburgh  as  the  organ  of  the 
\Vliigs,  called  forth  from  the  Conservatives  The  London 
Quarterly  and  JBIachvood's  Ifagazine.  Then  followed  the 
quarterlies  and  monthlies  which  were  made  the  organs  of 
religious  parties  and  denominations  and  also  of  special  phil- 
osophical and  theological  opinions.     The  primary  object  of 


344  BooJcs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xxr. 

the  most  of  these  raao-azines  was  to  furiiisli  thorough  criti- 
cisms  of  books  of  current  literature,  and  well-considered 
articles  upon  the  various  topics  of  politics  and  reform  in 
which  the  public  were  interested.  In  process  of  time,  the 
scope  of  these  reviews  was  somewhat  enlarged,  and  they  re- 
ceived papers  of  a  general  character  upon  any  subjects  to 
which  certain  writers  had  devoted  special  attention.  In 
this  way  they  became  in  part  nothing  more  than  a  periodi- 
cal vehicle  for  the  issue  of  pamphlets  or  brief  treatises.  In 
consequence,  many  a  writer  who  in  earlier  times  would 
have  published  his  book,  which  might  be  longer  or  shorter, 
now  publishes  a  labored  article.  The  convenience  and  the 
regularity  of  the  review  stimulates  to  the  production  of 
many  treatises  which  would  not  otherwise  have  been  writ- 
ten. Its  limits  and  its  popular  character  requires  that  the 
article  should  be  condensed  and  spirited.  This  has  created  a 
peculiar  style  of  writing — bold,  trenchant,  and  antithetic, 
often  eloquent  and  able,  but  always  positive  and  unqualified. 
Condensed  summaries  take  the  place  of  long  disquisitions; 
brief  and  pithy  statement?,  of  expanded  arguments;  and 
bold  and  square  assertions,of  guarded  and  qualified  induc- 
tions. In  the  Edinburgli  Review,  Sydney  Smith,  Jeffrey 
and  Macaulay  were  representative  writers ;  in  the  London 
Quarterly,  Gifford,  Southey  and  Croker;  in  Blackwood, 
Lookhart  and  Wilson  were  master  spirits.  The  North 
American  Review  aspired  at  a  purely  literary  character  and 
influence  with  no  pronounced  political  sympathies.  The 
Peabodys,  Ticknor,  Sparks,  and  the  Everetts  were  its  cha- 
racteristic writers. 

The  influence  of  these  reviews  upon  the  intellectual 
habits  of  their  readers,  especially  of  those  who  have  read 
them  from  their  youth,  has  been  not  inconsiderable.  With 
many,  they  have  displaced  not  a  few  of  the  books  which  had 
previously  been  considered  essential  in  the  reading  of  every 
well-informed  man.      Instead  of  reading  a  history  with 


Chap.  XXI.]        Newspapers  and  Periodicals.  345 

care  and  in  detail,  many  have  been  content  to  learn  from  a 
review  its  chief  positions,  its  general  aims  and  some  of  its 
more  striking  passages.  In  place  of  reading  the  original 
papers  or  documents  on  both  sides  of  a  controversy  on 
politics  or  finance,  it  has  been  found  more  expeditious  and 
convenient  to  read  the  summing  up  of  a  reviewer  even 
though  it  was  •  notorious  that  he  wrote  in  the  spirit  of  an 
advocate.  The  mastery  of  a  distinguished  author,  which 
by  the  old-fashioned  method  could  only  be  achieved  by 
long  and  laborious  processes  is  now  seemingly  achieved  at 
a  few  hours'  sitting,  by  the  aid  of  the  able  and  exhaustive 
critic  who  has  condensed  the  chief  results  and  principles 
into  a  brief  essay.  Instead  of  going  to  original  sources  of 
evidence,  or  hearing  both  sides  of  a  contested  question,  it  is 
more  convenient  to  take  the  impressions  of  a  writer  who  has 
volunteered  to  perform  the  labor  for  the  reader.  If  the 
reader  is  not  satisfied  with  reading  a  single  article,  he  can 
find  two  or  more  on  opposite  sides,  of  nearly  equal  ability 
and  research,  and  in  this  way  form  his  own  conclusions 
with  comparative  facility. 

It  must  be  acknowledged  that  periodicals  are  in  many 
respects  a  great  intellectual  convenience.  They  abbreviate 
labor  and  place  the  results  of  the  research  of  a  few  at  the 
service  and  disposal  of  the  many.  They  sometimes  facili- 
tate the  research  of  the  student  by  directing  him  to  the  ori- 
ginal sources  of  which  he  may  desire  to  avail  himself. 
Oftentimes  an  article  is  better  than  a  book.  Especially  is 
this  the  case  when  the  subject  is  out  of  our  line  and  we 
have  time  neither  to  look  up  authorities  nor  to  study  them. 
Many  of  the  most  intelligent  of  readers  are  remote  from 
libraries  and  are  unable  to  borrow  or  to  purchase  the  books 
which  furnish  the  information  or  the  estimates  which  they 
desire.  In  a  multitude  of  instances  similar  to  these,  the 
modern  review  or  journal  serves  the  most  important  pur- 
poses.    It  has  greatly  diffused  information,  abbreviated 


346  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xxt. 

labor,  and  quickened,  thought.  No  man  of  sense  would 
think  of  dispensing  with  its  aid  or  of  depriving  himself  of 
the  gratification  and  stimulus  which  it  furnishes.  On  the 
other  liand : 

The  excessive  or  even  the  constant  reading  of  the  best 
reviews  exposes  to  certain  special  dangers.  First  of  all,  it 
tends  to  make  the  reader  superficial  so  far,  at  least,  as  it 
accustoms  him  to  take  up  with  second-hand  information 
and  authorities.  In  respect  to  history  and  argument — 
whetlier  testimony  concerning  facts  or  reasoning  to  conclu- 
sions are  required — the  man  who  does  not  go  to  original 
sources,  is  liable  in  spite  of  himself  to  receive  inadequate  or 
one-sided  impressions.  The  liabit  of  taking  one's  know- 
ledge or  opinions  at  second-hand  induces  the  feeling  of  sub- 
mission and  dependence,  which  can  neither  be  hindered  nor 
disguised  by  the  excessive  confidence  not  to  say  effrontery 
with  which  the  habit  is  usually  accompanied. 

It  tends  to  make  a  man  a  partisan  in  hio  opinions  and 
feelings.  Tlie  attitude  of  the  writers  whom  he  reads  is 
more  frequently  a  partisan  attitude,  and  it  is  natural  that  it 
should  be.  The  habitual  reader  of  one-sided  arguments — 
especially  if  he  be  himself  devoted  to  the  general  views  of 
the  journal  in  which  he  most  confides — will  be  likely  to  be 
formed  and  fixed  insensibly  to  partisan  ways  of  looking  at 
every  subject.  It  can  hardly  fiiil  to  be  true  that  one 
should  be  moulded  to  partisan  habits  who  is  familiar  with 
one-sided  and  partisan  literature. 

Again  :  the  exclusive  reading  of  this  species  of  literature 
may  expose  to  skepticism  or  indifference  coiK'erning  truth 
of  every  kind.  To  avoid  narrowness  and  bigotry  iha 
reader  seeks  to  study -a  subio-t  on  everv  side.  Bv  doing 
this  lie  incurs  the  oj)posite  danger  of  losing  his  confidence 
in  positive  truth  and  earnestness  in  his  own  convictions.  No 
evil  should  bo  more  earnestly  dej)re('ated  than  the  evils  of 
intellectual    libertinism  or   skepticism    in   respect   to   the 


Chap.  XXI.]        Newspapers  and  Periodicals.  347 

great  principles  of  moral,  political  and  religious  truth. 
But  to  none  is  the  quick-minded  and  susceptible  reader 
more  exposed,  who  runs  rapidly  over  the  arguments  on 
both  sides  of  great  questions,  all  of  which  are  second-hand 
so  far  as  authorities  are  concerned,  all  of  which  are  parti- 
san, all  of  which  are  contemptuous  of  their  opponents,  while 
all  are  equally  confident  and  pronounced.  The  reader  who 
begins  the  study  of  all  sides  through  the  medium  of  op- 
posing periodicals,  may  at  first  be  ingenuous,  simple  and 
earnest.  Reading  rapidly  as  he  may  because  the  articles 
are  brief,  passing  quickly  to  the  counter-article  w^ithout 
having  given  to  the  first  sufficient  reflection,  and  so  to  the 
next,  he  finds  himself  dazed,  confused  and  uncertain.  If 
he  goes  no  farther,  he  will  at  least  be  in  danger  of  conclud- 
ing that  no  truth  can  be  an  established  truth,  on  both  sides 
of  which  so  much  can  be  said,  and  may  finally  rest  in  the 
desperate  and  despicable  attitude  of  having  no  ojiinions 
whatever  in  respect  to  the  most  important  questions. 
Meanwhile  he  baptizes  his  weakness  with  a  name  of 
strength.  He  calls  that  liberality  which  is  truly  libertin- 
ism. No  single  agency  has  been  more  efficient  in  the  pre- 
sent century  in  diffusing  this  spirit  among  reading  circles 
than  the  habits  induced  by  the  extensive  and  many-sided 
reading  of  second-hand  literature.  INIcn  who  are  quick- 
witted and  curious  withal,  and  who  desire  to  know  all  sides, 
rush  throu<z;h  reviews  and  books  which  are  nothino;  better 
than  extended  journalistic  articles — books  which  are  writ- 
ten in  the  bold,  unfair  .and  declamatory  style  which  review 
writing  has  bred,  and  the  habit  of  review  reading  demands 
— and  return  with  the  report :  "  We  have  gone  every  wliere 
with  the  inquiry,  What  is  truth  ?  and  have  not  yet  found 
an  answer;  there  is  no  truth  except,  perhaps,  in  some  blind 
instincts  or  scanty  intuitions  which  are  as  blind ;  the  struc- 
tures which  law-givers  and  priests  and  teachers  bid  us  re- 
ceive and  which  the  experience  of  other  generations  had 


348  Books  and  Reading,  [Chap.  xxi. 

confirmed  are  all  built  upon  the  sand."  The  flippant  doo-- 
matism  of  most  of  the  sophists  of  our  time  who  so  freely, 
so  confidently  and  apparently  so  learnedly,  dispose  of  the 
old  philosophies,  the  old  religions,  the  old  laws,  the  old 
educations,  the  old  manners,  and  even  the  old  decencies  of 
life,  finds  its  readiest  converts  in  the  litterateurs  who  have 
been  inflated  with  conceit  or  paled  with  skepticism  from 
feeding  exclusively  on  the  second-hand  literature  which  the 
modern  review  has  engendered. 

The  influence  of  the  style  and  diction  which  the  modern 
review  has  required  and  cultivated,  should  not  be  passed 
over.  This  diction  is  shaped  too  exclusively  for  inmiedi- 
ate  effectiveness  to  be  altogether  salutary  in  its  influence. 
The  pungent  and  pithy  antitheses,  the  slashing -and  un- 
qualified assertions,  the  biting  satire,  and  the  caustic  humor, 
no  less  than  the  laudatory  panegyrics,  the  ambitious  rhe- 
toric and  the  studied  periods,  which  many  very  successful 
reviewers  have  employed,  are  all  bad  examples  of  style, 
even  if  they  are  not  positively  offensiv^e  to  any  one  who 
seeks  to  retain  his  intellectual  integrity  or  a  candid  and 
truth-loving  spirit.  Any  community  or  generation  of 
readers  must  be  in  a  bad  way  which  gives  itself  up  too  ex- 
clusively to  a  school  of  writers  who  value  effectiveness 
more  highly  than  truth.  It  would  not  be  difficult  to  show 
that  no  little  demoralization  of  thought  has  come  in  as  the 
indirect  result  of  the  demoralization  of  style  which  the  re- 
view has  effected, — that  it  has  infected  books  of  history, 
philosophy  and  physics  Avith  a  vicious  rhetoric,  that  is  es- 
sentially superficial  and  sophistical,  glazing  not  merely  the 
forms  of  expression  with  a  false  brilliancy,  but  making  the 
matter  rotten  to  the  core. 

If  it  is  not  wise  to  allow  our  grave  reading  to  be  given 
exclusively  or  in  large  proportion  to  the  reviews,  it  follows 
that  too  much  of  our  lighter  reading  should  not  be  devoted 
to  the  less  solid  magazines.    With  all  the  ability  by  which 


Chap.  XXI.]         Newspapers  and  Periodicals.  349 

they  are  distinguished  and  the  variety  of  excellence  which 
they  have  achieved,  they  cannot  be  the  staple  of  one's 
reading  without  serious  evil.  Brilliant  and  various  as 
they  are,  often  profound  and  sagacious,  abounding  as  they 
do  with  the  choicest  productions  of  the  most  gifted  writers, 
they  are  too  desultory,  their  subjects  are  treated  too  briefly 
and  superficially,  their  tone  is  often  too  flippant  and  sensa- 
tional, their  judgments  are  too  uncertain  .and  unsound,  to 
furnish  the  principal  reading  of  any  person ;  least  of  all, 
of  any  young  person.  The  young  man  or  the  young  lady 
whose  solid  reading  is  limited  to  the  very  best  of  these 
ma<2:azines  will  doubtless  find  in  them  much  intellectual  ex- 
citeraent  and  no  little  good,  but  not  without  attendant  evil. 
The  knowledge  and  education  may  be  varied  and  useful, 
but  the  school  remains  superficial  and  narrow.  If  on  the 
other  hand  they  find  their  best  reading  in  the  magazine  of 
a  lower  grade  their  reading  must  be  poor  indeed;  little  bet- 
ter than  a  showy  flippancy  can  come  of  it,  if  nothing 
worse. 

But  what  shall  he  said  of  the  neiospapers  ? 

First,  that  they  vary  widely,  from  the  Viery  good  down 
to  those  which  are  contemptibly  poor.  Among  these 
various  grades  there  is  ample  room  for  selection,  from 
the  leading  metropolitan  or  provincial  newspaper  which 
is  characterized  by  more  or  less  of  ability  and  principle, 
down  to  the  sheet — whether  in  city  or  country — which 
reflects  the  vulgar  illiteracy  of  a  low  or  uncultured 
community,  as  well  as  flatters  its  self-conceit  and  pan- 
ders to  its  interests ;  from  the  high-toned  religious  or  lite- 
rary journal  down  to  one  that  is  desperately  partisan  in 
either  of  these  spheres. 

Second,  newspapers  are  not  only  a  great  convenience 
but  an  absolute  necessity  of  modern  life  and  civilization. 
Tlie  overwrought  and  iadad.  brain  may  compel  its  posses- 
sor to  escape  from  the  news  and  their  excitements  by  a  voy- 


350  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xxl 

age  that  parts  him  from  the  mail  and  the  carrier,  or  he 
may  phmgc  into  the  Avild  retreat  into  whieh  neither  pene- 
trate, but  tiie  call  for  the  last  newspaper  is  the  first  symp- 
tom that  the  brain  is  slightly  refreshed  by  its  rest.  The 
comprehensive  survey  which  the  morning  news  gives  us  of 
what  happened  yesterday  in  every  part  of  the  world  cn- 
larg(3S  immensely  our  intellectual  vision;  training  us  to  the 
habit  of  thinking  habitually  of  the  concerns  of  all  the 
world  besides — and  not  only  to  the  habit  of  thinking  of 
them  but  of  comparing  and  adjusting  one  with  another. 
It  sends  the  imagination  round  the  world  "  in  less  than 
forty  minutes,"  bringing  before  it  Englishman  and  Arab, 
French  and  Tartar,  Prussian  and  Chinese  with  their  varie- 
ties of  interests  and  civilization.  This  frequent  and  com- 
prehensive review  of  the  whole  world  stinudates  the  intelli- 
gence to  discriminate  and  compare,  as  well  as  to  search  for 
principles  and  laws.  It  induces  tolerance  for  the  principles 
and  ways  that  differ  from  our  own,  charity  towards  the 
whole  family  of  man,  despite  of  intellectual  differences, 
conflicting  interests  and  hostile  passions. 

Tliird,  the  newspaper  wherever  it  is  free,  is  at  present 
very  largely  the  educator  and  controller  of  public  senti- 
ment, and  hence  has  become  a  most  potent  instrument  and 
depositary  of  power.  The  editor  is  at  this  moment  ap- 
parently more  influential  than  preachers,  judges  or  legisla- 
tors. He  is  mightier  than  all  these  united.  The  confi- 
ding reader  of  a  favorite  newsj)aper  often  tests  the  sermons 
of  Sunday  by  the  cliapter  and  verse  of  the  leading  articles 
of  the  week.  He  tries  his  elected  rulers  and  judges  be- 
fore the  bar  of  the  newspapers.  He  accepts  and  rejects 
his  lawmakers  and  the  laws  whi(.'h  they  make  according  to 
the  revision  of  the  editorial  court  of  appeals.  The  news- 
paper press  makes  war  and  peace,  writes  up  and  down  the 
value  of  proj)erty  and  destroys  or  defends  reputation. 

It  may  be  said  indeed  that  this  j^ower  is  not  unlimited, 


Chap.  XXI.]         Newspapers  and  Periodicals.  351 

because  the  press  can  regulate  public  opinion  only  so  far  as 
it  reflects  it  and  adapts  itself  to  it.  It  may  be  urged  that 
the  editor  controls  and  directs  the  great  agencies  of  modern 
life  only  as  he  skillfully  anticipates  and  interprets  them, 
that  he  can  command  these  only  as  man  commands  the 
laws  of  nature,  by  first  understanding  and  then  obeying 
them.  This  to  a  certain  extent  is  true,  but  it  is  also  true 
that  the  press  can  inflame  and  excite  agencies  which  but  for 
its  influence  would  have  slumbered  forever,  that  it  can 
unite  and  concentrate  forces  which  Avould  have  been  feeble 
so  long  as  they  were  scattered,  that  it  can  give  courage  and 
boldness  to  men  and  to  causes  which  but  for  it»  inspiriting 
influence,  would  have  been  perpetually  cowed  and  re- 
pressed. It  may  also  be  said  that  whenever  the  press  is 
free  it  cannot  mislead,  for  falsehood  can  be  met  by  truth, 
sophistry  can  be  refuted  by  sound  reasoning,  party  tricks 
can  be  exposed,  dishonesty  can  be  made  public,  and  in  the 
long  run  the  truth  and  the  right  will  prevail.  This  may 
be  true  in  the  long  run,  but  the  time  required  may  be  too 
long  for  the  public  good.  Meanwhile,  so  far  as  the  individ- 
ual and  a  single  generation  are  concerned  the  press  has  am- 
ple room  to  dekide,  to  degrade  and  to  destroy.  K  can  delib- 
erately and  persistently  flatter  the  vile,  and  hoodwink  honest 
men.  It  can  act  the  part  of  the  demagogue  and  the  seducer 
and  the  venal  advocate.  It  can  suppress  the  truth  by  con- 
scious villainy  and  it  can  set  oif  error  in  false  colors  and 
with  factitious  rhetoric.  It  can  lower  education  and  de- 
bauch public  and  private  morals.  It  can  dishonor  the 
noblest  characters  among  the  dead  and  the  living.  It  can 
induce  skepticism  in  whatever  is  sacred  or  venerable,  by 
sneering  and  sophistry,  and  can  adroitly  conceal  both.  In 
the  name  of  science  and  taste  and  progress  it  can  vulgarize 
and  degrade  and  put  back  all  these  for  a  century. 

Fourth,  many  newspapers  whose  influence  is  not  incon- 
siderable are  low  in  their  intellectual  tone.     While  there 


352  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  XXL 

is  room  in  the  editorial  profession  for  the  exercise  of  the 
most  consummate  power  and  the  most  varied  qualifications, 
it  is  possible  to  be  what  is  called  a  successful  editor  with 
■  scanty  knowledge  and  limited  abilities.  Application  is 
necessary  and  a  certain  energy  of  endurance  in  small  work. 
If  to  this  be  added  the  tact  at  knowing  what  will  please, 
and  what  is  called  the  knack  of  writing  an  editorial,  success 
is  certain  under  circumstances  ordinarily  favorable.  That 
a  multitude  of  newspapers  do  not  exhibit  any  considerable 
intellectual  power  or  knowledge  is  too  obvious  to  require 
proof.  Their  readers  recognize  the  indications  of  dullness 
and  incompetency.  Feebleness  of  judgment  and  the  want 
of  discrimination  and  intellectual  force  betray  themselves 
in  every  column.  Silliness  and  bad  taste  sometimes  break 
out  in  oppressive  manifestations,  and  general  impotency  are 
everywhere  exhibited.  And  yet  for  all  these  weaknesses,  in- 
dustry, business  talent,  and  tact  in  understanding  the  de- 
mands of  the  public  and  skill  in  supplying  these  demands 
may  so  far  compensate  for  these  glaring  defects  as  to  gain  for 
the  paper  an  extensive  circulation  and  no  little  influence. 
Fifth,  many  newspapers  are  animated  by  a  spirit  that  is 
more  or  less  insincere.  Their  editors  and  leading  writers 
have  few  convictions,  i.  e.,  few  opinions  which  they  hold 
with  earnestness  and  regard  as  of  pre-eminent  importance. 
They  profess  to  hold  the  principles  of  their  party  whether 
political  or  religious.  But  all  they  mean  by  this  is  that 
their  paper  is  pledged  as  the  organ  of  the  party  or  its  plat- 
form, and  is  thereby  committed  to  the  duty  of  publishing 
those  facts  and  arguments  which  favor  these  opinions,  and 
of  suppressing  or  skillfully  managing  those  which  make 
against  them.  Public  opinion  is  to  a  large  extent  regarded 
as  an  eifect  which  can  be  moulded  and  manipulated.  The 
influence  of  a  paper  is  cast  in  favor  of  a  particular  move- 
ment or  is  thrown  against  it,  by  arts  which  are  perfectly  well 
understood  in  the  editor's  closet.     The  habit  of  thus  mani' 


Chap.  XXI.]         Newspapers  and  Periodicals.  •        353 

pulating  public  opinion,  if  it  never  leads  to  trading  in  it, — 
the  consciousness  of  laying  plans  and  of  executing  them  to 
arouse  public  sentiment  in  a  given  direction  or  to  give  it  a 
dexterous  turn  in  favor  of  a  measure  or  a  man — is  not  over 
friendly  to  that  solidity  and  ardor  of  sentiment  which 
usually  characterizes  strong  convictions  or  earnest  princi- 
ples. The  necessity  of  writing  upon  many  subjects  in 
which  the  writer  cannot  feel  a  special  interest  induces  the 
habits  and  temper  of  the  advocate  with  his  factitious  simu- 
lations and  artificial  excitements.  The  discerning  reader 
finds  only  now  and  then  a  "leader"  which  bespeaks  the  solid 
convictions  of  a  high-toned  and  earnest  man,  which  is 
written  because  these  cannot  be  repressed,  and  which  seizes 
hold  of  the  mind  with  that  power  which  earnestness  always 
excites.  In  other  articles  there  mq,y  be  ability,  research 
and  strength ;  the  subjects  may  be  fairly  treated  and  ex- 
haustively presented,  but  the  impression  is  not  of  a  strong 
nature  thoroughly  aroused. 

This  insincerity  is  manifested  in  its  extremest  form  when 
it  produces  the  modern  Bohemian,  or  the  soldier  of  fortune 
in  the  service  of  the  newspaper  press,  who  is  ready  for  an 
engagement  whenever  it  oifers,  provided  the  pay  is  sure  and 
good,  and  sometimes  when  it  is  neither,  provided  the 
"provant" — as  the  famous  Dugald  Dalgetty,  an  illustrious 
member  of  the  fraternity  termed  it — is  ample  and  well- 
moistened.  He  is  a  person  of  no  mean  qualifications,  but 
smart  rather  than  solid  and  apt  rather  than  trustworthy.  He 
has  received  an  education  more  or  less  accomplished  from 
the  finished  classical  culture  of  the  English  university  down 
to  the  scanty  but  stimulating  curriculum  of  the  printing 
and  editorial  room.  He  has  a  facile  command  of  the  pen, 
a  good  memory,  a  ready  wit  and  infinite  volubility.  His 
assurance  is  unbounded  and  his  principles  and  his  sense  of 
consistency  never  stand  in  the  way  of  any  engagement. 
He  does  not  hesitate  to  write  leaders  at  the  same  time  in 
23 


354  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap,  xxl 

the  organs  of  two  opposing  parties — for  and  against  protec- 
tion or  national  banking,  or  whatever  doctrine  divides  the 
parties  of  the  day.  He  is  ready  to  applaud  and  to  defame 
any  man  for  hire  and  to  extol  and  depress  the  same  man  in 
two  successive  weeks  according  to  his  engagement.  He  is 
a  regular  Swashbuckler ;  the  instrument  of  his  power  is 
what  is  called  a  trenchant  style,  with  ready  command  of 
images,  allusions  and  historic  parallels,  and  a  capacity 
for  blathcrskiie  which  is  inexhaustible.  He  is,  of  course, 
thoroughly  insincere.  He  has  no  convictions  except  upon 
a  single  point,  and  that  is  that  those  who  pretend  to  have 
any,  are  either  weakly  self-deceived  or  self-conscious  knaves. 
And  yet  no  class  of  writers  use  the  vocabulary  of  earnest- 
ness and  honesty  more  fervently  and  impressively  than  he. 
The  Bohemian  whom  we  have  described  is  one  of  the  ex- 
trerjiest  type.  There  may  be  few  examples  of  one  who  is 
so  thoroughly  consistent,  but  so  far  as  the  modern  news- 
paper is  insincere,  so  far  is  it  animated  by  his  spirit.  We 
do  not  assert  that  all  newsjnipers  are  insincere.  On  the 
contrary,  there  are  not  a  few  in  which  earnest  convictions 
and  positive  opinions  are  everywhere  conspicuous.  The 
tone  of  such  Journals  is  unmistakable.  One  feels  the  pre- 
sence of  real,  not  pretended  sincerity  the  moment  he  takes 
up  such  a  sheet.  Sincerity  not  only  rings  through  the  edi- 
torials but  it  controls  the  selection  and  is  apparent  in  the 
very  arrangement  of  its  arti(;les. 

Sixth,  the  modern  newspaper  so  far  as  it  is  insincere  is 
immoral  and  demoralizing.  There  are  other  reasons  why 
it  is  exposed  to  this  charge.  It  is  confessed  that  ne\AV5- 
papers  are  often  unscrupulous  in  their  statements  of  fact, 
that  they  suppress  the  truth  when  it  makes  against  them 
and  overstate  that  which  would  be  in  their  favor.  It  is 
notorious  that  the  partisan  tcm})er  and  partisan  tactics 
very  largely  regulate  the  conduct  of  many  so-called  organs 
not  only  of  political  but  of  religious  parties.     The  news- 


Chap.  XXI.]        Newspapers  and  Periodicals.  365 

paper  descends  to  inexcusable  personalities, — both  the 
pure  and  indecent  and  the  trivial  and  belittling.  It  often 
delights  in  vituperation.  It  even  makes  this  to  be  its  duty. 
No  sooner  is  a  man  conspicuous  by  holding  a  public  posi- 
tion or  is  named  as  a  candidate  for  it,  than  his  private 
character  and  affairs  are  made  matters  of  public  comment, 
either  to  flatter  his  vanity  or  to  gratify  the  insane  passion 
for  gossip  which  rules  the  public  taste,  or  to  excite  the 
prejudice  and  contempt  of  his  opponents.  Vituperation 
of  one's  antagonist  in  politics  or  religion  is  esteemed  one  of 
the  cardinal  virtues,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  practice,  of 
many  journals.  The  more  freely  it  is  indulged  the  more 
satisfactorily  is  the  writer  thought  to  discharge  his  duty 
and  the  more  completely  is  homage  paid  to  public  justice. 

If  a  newspaper  is  devoted  to  some  public  reform  in  the 
service  of  morality  or  freedom,  or  in  vindication  of  the 
rights  of  some  class  which  is  thought  to  be  oppressed,  it 
takes  the  largest  liberty  of  vituperation  and  discharges  its 
energetic  denunciations  in  the  manner  of  a,  brawling  pro- 
^phet.  The  end  sanctifies  the  means.  "  Are  not  the  enemies 
of  the  proposed  reform,  enemies  of  all  truth  and  does  not 
fidelity  to  our  cause  require  us  to  denounce  them  as  such  ?" 
Of  not  a  few  of  these  self-asserted  and  conspicuous  cham- 
pions of  reform  it  is  eminently  true  that  their  habit  of 
deliberately  and  persistently  denouncing  their  opponents  in 
terms  of  unlicensed  vituperation  has  become  so  much  a  se- 
cond nature  as  to  vitiate  all  their  other  excellences,  and  to 
make  the  very  organs  of  moral  and  political  reform  to  be 
the  instruments  of  private  and  public  demoralization.  Of 
many  of  these  advocates  and  organs  it  is  not  easy  to  de- 
cide whether  the  devil  has  in  fact  taken  orders  among  the 
reformers  or  whether  the  reformers  have  taken  "to  serving 
the  Lord  as  if  the  devil  were  in  them." 

It  v?>  not  an  unheard  of  thing  that  a  paper  edited  with 
consummate  ability  and  that  promised  to  be  of  high  tone  in 


366  Books  and  Beading.  [Chap.  xxi, 

respect  of  manners  and  morals,  has  with  apparently  cool 
and  deliberate  resolve  given  itself  to  the  project  of  forcing 
itself  into  notoriety  by  a  variety  of  sensational  devices,  and 
pre-eminently  by  dragging  before  the  public  scandalous 
rumors  and  more  scandalous  transactions,  as  well  as  by 
grossly  assailing  the  characters  of  public  men,  and  follow- 
ing them  and  their  friends  with  persistent  slander. 

The  influence  of  a  newspaper  cannot  but  be  demoraliz- 
ing, however  able  its  correspondence,  or  prompt  and  trust- 
worthy its  news,  if  the  presiding  genius  of  its  editorial 
sanctum  be  a  grinning,  sneering  Mepldstopheles,  and  the 
tone  of  the  articles  composed  under  this  insj)iration  be  that 
of  persistent  banter  of  everything  which  honest  men 
reverence  and  brave  men  are  ready  to  die  for;  the  auda- 
cious drollery  of  which  moves  the  whole  conmiunity  to 
laughter,  even  when  it  moves  honest  men  to  virtuous 
wrath.  A  harlequin  may  be  allowed  in  his  place,  but 
we  cannot  welcome  him  in  our  churches  or  our  oratories, 
to  sneer  when  we  desire  to  worship ;  or  find  him  congenial 
to  those  sober  moments  when  life  at  least  is  real  and 
earnest,  even  if  conscience  and  God  are  not. 

Seventh,  that  some  newspapers  conspicuously  rejoice  in 
bad  examples  of  English  style  need  hardly  be  added. 
This  might  be  inferred  if  it  were  not  so  notorious.  Where 
there  is  insincerity,  untruth  and  defect  of  principle  there 
must  be  more  or  less  of  bad  English.  While  a  few  are 
models  of  clear,  unpretending,  direct  and  nervous  Eng- 
lish, not  a  few  are  representatives  of  every  description  of 
excess  and  over-doing,  of  carelessness  and  pretension,  of 
extravagance  and  "  blatherskite,"  which  are  an  oflence  to 
the  lovers  of  a  pure  and  simple  diction. 

From  these  facts,  the  following  may  be  derived  as  rules 
in  respect  to  the  use  of  newspapers. 

First.  It  is  worse  than  unwise  to  allow  newspaper's  to  be 
one's  sole  reading.     The  temptation  to  do  this  is  very 


Chap.  XXL]        Newspapers  and  Periodicals,  357 

strong,  and  many  yield  to  it.  Men  immersed  in  business 
seem  often  shut  up  to  this  by  necessity.  Even  professional 
men  who  read  or  consult  not  a  few  books  in  the  way  of 
duty  allow  the  newspapers  to  take  the  place  of  other  reading. 
The  merchant  reads  the  money  articles  of  the  newspaper, 
but  rarely  if  ever  a  book  upon  banking  or  political  econo- 
my. The  farmer  reads  his  agricultural  journal,  but  never 
a  treatise.  As  to  the  politicians,  both  small  and  great,  it  is 
enough  for  them  to  consult  the  current  histories  of  domes- 
tic campaigns  and  foreign  entanglements  which  the  papers 
furnish,  without  looking  into  books  for  the  histoiy  of  the 
remoter  past  which  has  prepared  the  way  for  the  present 
and  alone  can  explain  it.  Even  if  the  leader  is  more  in- 
structive and  more  to  the  point  than  any  book  could  be, 
the  book  may  be  better  because  it  opens  a  wider  range  of 
considerations  and  so  tends  to  enlarge  the  mind.  The 
newspaper  is  written  more  in  the  spirit  of  an  advocate  than 
even  a  very  one-sided  book.  Tlie  writer  for  the  newspa- 
per usually  dogmatizes  more  and  is  more  positive  than  the 
author.  The  standard  of  manners  and  of  temper  is  usually 
far  lower  in  the  one  than  in  the  other.  The  style  of  the 
book  is  ordinarily  better.  The  best  newspaper  style  suffers 
under  the  necessity  of  compression  or  it  abuses  the  liberty 
of  indefinite  expansion  and  verbiage.  The  newspaper  deals 
with  the  present,  and  is  hurried,  narrow,  confident  and  bust- 
ling. The  book  has  to  do  with  all  times — the  past,  the  pre- 
sent and  the  future, — and  is  in  so  far  more  calm,  elevated 
and  sagacious.  For  these  and  other  reasons  it  is  observed  that 
the  reader  of  new-spapers  only  is  more  usually  positive,  con- 
ceited and  flippant  than  the  man  who  is  also  a  reader  of  books. 
Second.  One  should  read  good  newspapers  in  preference. 
"\Ve  mean  not  only  those  which  are  able  in  thought  and 
pure  in  style,  but  those  whose  principles  are  pronounced  and 
whose  manners  are  elevating.  Many  say  and  think  :  "  It 
is  only  a  newspaper;  of  what  consequence  is  it?    We  only 


358  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xxr. 

glance  at  it  for  a  moment  or  run  through  it  for  an  hour 
and  then  lay  it  aside.  If  its  bad  logic,  its  unsound  doc- 
trines, its  vile  insinuations  and  its  jDrofane  banter  were 
in  a  book,  we  would  not  tolerate  the  book  for  a  moinent, 
but  I  and  my  children  know,  it  is  only  the  so  or  so,  and 
we  let  its  unwisdom  and  its  foulness  pass  for  what  they 
are  worth."  Mr.  A.  would  not  tolerate  slander  or  mean 
personalities  for  a  moment  in  conversation  at  his  table,  and 
yet  Mr.,  A.  takes  a  paper  for  himself  and  his  children 
which  distribute  both  as  freely  and  as  maliciously  as  an 
audacious  villain  ejects  vitriol  into  the  eyes  or  upon  the  ap- 
parel of  passers  by.  He  would  not  allow  his  family  to  read 
a  book  that  should  gravely  attack  or  sneeringly  scoff  at 
his  faith  lest  it  should  leave  some  unfavorable  impres- 
sions, but  he  allows  the  daily  slime  of  an  insinuating 
newspaper  to  hold  their  thoughts  and  to  possess  their  ima- 
gination by  a  daily  lesson  and  for  a  much  longer  time  than 
the  lessons  of  Scriptures  which  are  allotted  to  the  morning 
and  evening  devotions  of  his  household. 

Third.  One  should  use  the  newspaper  as  a  servant  and 
not  as  a  master.  Many  confiding  souls  believe  all  that 
the  newspaper  tells  them  and  think  it  their  duty  to  justify 
and  defend  all  its  statements,  because  forsooth  it  is  the  jia- 
per  which  they  subscribe  for  or  which  is  the  organ  of  their 
party.  In  like  manner  some  go  so  far  as  to  feel  bound  to 
read  every  paper  tlirough.  Neither  is  wise  nor  even  safe. 
No  obligation  rests  upon  any  man  to  read  or  to  believe  the 
whole  of  what  any,  even  the  best  of  newspajwTs  may  con- 
tain. The  haste  with  which  its  news  is  gathered  and  ita 
opinions  are  expressed,  the  very  great  extent  to  which  the 
most  honest  and  liest  qualified  managers  are  dependent 
upon  the  fidelity  of  others,  to  say  nothing  of  the  force  of 
the  passions  and  prejudices  of  the  hour  and  the  demands 
of  the  party  or  the  ])ublic  whose  good  will  the  ])aper  is  de- 
sirous to  secure,  all  these  constitute  it  an  unsafe  guide  to 


Chap.  XXI.]        Newspapers  and  Periodicals.  359 

be  implicitly  believed  or  followed.  If  it  is  often  wise  to 
regard  our  books  with  a  kind  of  suspicion  and  to  guard 
against  their  excessive  influence,  much  more  should  we  do 
the  same  with  respect  to  our  newspapers,  even  if  they  are 
the  best. 

We  have  questioned  Avhether  the  saying  were  altogether 
true  that,  "  No  man  is  the  wiser  for  his  books  until  he  is 
above  them."  We  cannot  question  that  it  is  true  of  news- 
papers. 

Fourth.  Every  one  should  remember  that  he  is  to  some 
degree  responsilile  for  the  character  of  the  issues  from  the 
newspaper  press.  The  newspapers  of  a  country  it  should 
never  be  forgotten  are  no  worse  or  better  than  the  people 
would  have  them  to  be.  They  are  a  reflex  of  the  know- 
ledge and  tastes  of  the  majority  of  their  readers.  We  can- 
not resist  this  inference  however  humiliating  at  times  it 
may  be.  More  than  one  intelligent  defender  of  our 
country  in  Europe  has  been  arrested  and  disturbed  in  his 
argument  by  the  question,  "  How  do  you  explain  the  fact 
that  such  and  such  a  newspaper  has  so  extensive  a  circula- 
tion among  your  people?"  It  would  be  well  if  every  man 
w'ho  buys  or  reads  a  newspaper  M^ould  think  of  this  ques- 
tion and  of  the  lessons  of  duty  and  honor  which  it  suggests. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

''  THE  LIBRARY. 

Readers  of  books  desire  to  become  the  owners  of  books. 
The  pleasure  and  advantage  whicli  are  derived  from  the  use 
of  a  vokime,  prompt  to  the  wish  that  it  may  be  constantly 
within  reach.  Hence,  books  like  everything  else  which  is 
desirable  come  to  be  sought  for  and  valued  as  property. 
The  child  is  not  satisfied  with  u.sing  a  picture-book,  he 
must  call  the  boolc  his  own.  The  persistent  Vdicratcnr  and 
the  veteran  scholar  value  no  purchase  or  gift  so  highly  as 
a  rare  or  elegant  volume.  The  enthusiastic  and  devoted 
reader,  if  he  luis  the  means  and  the  spirit  of  independence, 
usually  becomes  the  buyer  and  owner  of  books.  Every 
reader  gathers  about  himself  something  of  a  library.  Every 
community  so  soon  as  it  rises  above  the  most  pressing  and 
immediate  wants,  feels  the  need  of  a  collection  of  books 
"Nvhich  may  su})ply  its  higher  necessities.  We  cannot  there- 
fore properly  dismiss  our  theme  of  Boohs  and  Heading 
without  also  considering  The  Library. 

We  begin  with  the  personal  or  private  Library.  The 
thought  which  first  suggests  itself  is  the  very  obvious  one, 
that  the  size  of  a  li!)rary  when  collected  by  a  single  person 
for  his  private  use  depends  on  his  menus,  his  liberality,  his 
feeling  of  independence,  his  duties  and  ivlations  to  others, 
and  the  com])arative  estimate  which  he  i)hK'cs  upon  books; 
not  upon  any  one  of  these,  but  upon  ail  ur.itcd.  A  man 
comparatively  poor,  may  contrive  to  n('(|uii"e  a  larger  collec- 
tion of  books  than  a  man  who  is  rich,  simply  becxiuse  he  cares 
more  for  them,  and  in  order  that  he  may  possess  them  is 
360 


Chap.  XXII.]  The  Library.  361 

willing  to  forego  many  other  possessions  and  enjoyments. 
On  the  other  hand  a  man  of  ample  means  and  of  decided 
literary  tastes  may  deny  himself  the  convenience  and  lux- 
ury of  a  library  for  such  reasons  of  duty  as  would  lead 
him  to  forego  other  conveniences  or  luxuries. 

It  is  the  quality  not  the  size  of  the  private  library  in 
which  we  are  most  nearly  interested.  Some  persons  buy 
books  chiefly  for  use,  and  the  library  which  they  collect  is 
conspicuously  professional.  The  physidian  must  at  least 
have  his  treatises  on  physiology,  surgery  and  the  materia 
medica;  the  lawyer  cannot  dispense  with  a  copy  of  the 
Statutes  or  with  a  book  of  legal  forms;  the  clergyman,  pro- 
vided he  can  read,  must  own  a  Bible,  a  commentary  and  a 
concordance.  These  indispensables  naturally  expand  into 
those  formidable  libraries  which  are  strictly  professional ; 
libraries  which  are  '^ caviare  to  the  general;"  but  Avliich  to 
the  individual  worker  with  the  brain,  are  literally  his  "tools 
of  trade."  However  unintelligible  and  uninteresting  such 
a  library  is  to  a  layman,  it  is  full  of  interest  and  imjiort- 
ance  to  the  artist,  the  mechanic,  or  any  other  professional 
worker. 

Often  persons  collect  books  for  enjoyment.  It  is  to  them 
a  luxury  and  delight  to  read  history  and  biography,  fiction 
and  poetry,  eloquence  and  criticism.  To  have  a  large  col- 
lection of  books  of  all  these  descriptions  constantly  within 
their  reach,  is  to  have  at  hand  treasures  and  luxuries  with 
which  nothing  else  deserves  to  be  compared.  They  say  with 
another,  "  I  no  sooner  come  into  the  library  but  I  bolt  the 
door  to  me,  excluding  lust,  ambition,  avarice,  and  melan- 
choly herself,  and  in  the  very  lap  of  eternity,  amongst  so 
many  divine  souls,  I  take  my  seat  with  so  lofty  a  spirit  and 
sweet  content  that  I  pity  all  our  great  ones,  and  rich  men 
that  know  not  this  happiness." 

Still  other  persons  buy  books  for  shoio.  They  like  the 
sight  of  elegant  books  in  substantial  and  costly  bindings. 


3G2  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xxii. 

The  show  itself  is  pretty  to  the  eye  and  the  associations  are 
grateful  to  the  mind  that  knows  enough  of  the  use  and 
value  of  books  to  be  flattered  by  the  company  with  which 
the  possession  of  books  connects  tlie  owner.  It  is  gratify- 
ing to  gaze  upon  the  stately  /olios  as  they  support  the 
elegant  yet  substantial  octavos,  and  these  the  compact  and 
genteel  duodecimos,  and  these  the  daintier  sizes — to  behold 
some  in  polished  calf,  skilfully  tooled  in  figures  of  arabesque; 
others  in  levantine  turkey,  rich  with  its  deeply  grained  col- 
ors; others  in  the  gayer  hues  of  the  French  chagrin,  bright 
with  red  and  green  and  blue;  and  others  still  in  the  many 
varieties  of  German  finish;  and  others  distinguished  by  the 
Eoman  vellum,  delicately  set  off  with  its  tracery  of  gilt.  It 
is  a  proud  act  for  the  owner  of  such  an  expensive  collection 
to  introduce  a  friend  or  a  guest  to  his  treasures  with  their 
appropriate  accessories  of  illustrated  works,  choice  engrav- 
ings, illuminated  missals,  etc.,  and  to  count  up  his  expendi- 
tures in  honor  of  letters  and  art. 

Otiicrs  still,  buy  for  curiosit>j  and  for  rareness.  Learned 
and  sharp-cut  Elzevirs,  elegant  Aldines,  much  sought  In- 
cunabula, Edition&i  principcs,  books  with  autographs  or  an- 
notations of  former  owners  famous  in  literature,  books 
made  up  by  mosaic  handicraft  of  illustrations  collected  far 
and  near,  tall  paper  copies,  survivors  of  scanty  or  exhausted 
editions,  all  these  are  bought  with  princely  liberality  and 
are  exhibited  with  natural  pride  to  the  select  few  who  can 
judge  and  estimate  them  as  only  diamond  fanciers  esti- 
mate diamonds. 

Others  buy  a  library  for  the  convenience  of  their  fami- 
lies or  friends;  being  themselves  too  bu.sy  to  have  much  to 
do  with  books  or  having  no  decided  taste  for  books,  but 
desirinjj  to  cultivate  their  tastes  or  cnlarjjjc  their  know- 
ledge  and  usefulness. 

The  personal  library  is  often  in  a  sense  the  embodiment 
of  the  spirit  of  its  collector  and  owner.     It  certainly  is  a 


Chap.  XXII.]  The  Library.  365 

striking  manifestation  of  his  taste?.,  habits,  character  and 
pursuits.  This  is  always  true  if  the  library  is  collect- 
ed with  any  special  zeal,  and  the  owner  is  free  to  indulge 
his  special  proclivities.  We  can  usually  interpret  the  tastes 
and  principles  of  a  man, — often  we  can  discover  his 
crotchets  and  prejudices  by  simply  inspecting  his  library. 
The  mass  of  his  collection  may  be  such  books  as  "no 
gentleman's  library  should  be  without ;  "  but  the  discern- 
ing eye  will  spy  out  here  and  there  a  volume  or  a  series — 
perhaps  in  some  private  corner — which  reveal  his  peculiar 
tastes  and  his  inmost  feelings.  Very  often  the  indications 
are  so  obvious  as  to  need  no  special  sagacity  for  their  in- 
terpretation. Even  if  the  library  is  not  prevailingly  pro- 
fessional, it  will  reveal  to  the  hasty  observer  of  its  shelves, 
whether  its  owner  is  mathematician,  physicist  or  linguist, 
and  in  Avhat  specialty  of  each ;  and  this  whether  he  is  a 
proficient  or  amateur.  If  he  is  devoted  to  history,  his 
library  will  show  it,  and  will  also  make  known  the  kind 
of  history  in  which  he  delights.  Tlie  lover  of  poetry,  or 
fiction  or  literary  criticism,  and  the  man  of  many-sided  and 
universal  tastes  will  be  as  distinctly  revealed.  The  domi- 
nant tastes,  the  ruling  aims,  the  controlling  principles  can 
often  be  gathered  from  the  presence  or  absence  of  certain 
classes  of  books.  With  equal  distinctness  the  fact  is  pro- 
claimed whether  he  is  a  believer  in  God  or  in  Nature,  in 
Christ  or  in  Humanity.  If  he  is  a  Christian  believer,  his 
theological  creed  and  his  religious  earnestness  may  be  con- 
jectured with  similar  confidence. 

By  the  same  rule  the  growth  of  a  library  when  it  is  un- 
constrained by  hindrances  or  influences  from  without,  is  a 
record  and  memorial  of  the  growth  and  changes  of  the 
owner's  intellect  and  tastes,  and  perhaps  of  sudden  or  gradu- 
al transformations  in  his  aims  and  principles.  If  he  has  re- 
tained his  early  school  books  and  with  them  the  tales  and 
lives  which  delighted  his  childhood,  these  well  thumbed 


364  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xxii. 

and  tattered  volumes  will  tell  to  him  at  least,  a  story  of  the 
delight  with  which  he  read  and  re-read  Robinson  Crusoe, 
the  Arabian  Nights,  the  adventures  of  Philip  Quarles  or  the 
memoirs  of  Baron  Trenck ;  or  perha])s  of  the  ardent  zeal  for 
knowledge  which  led  him  to  labor  with  his  own  hands  that 
he  might  buy  his  first  Greek  Grammar  or  a  better  Greek 
Lexicon.  It  is  often  a  wonder  to  the  fastidious  observer 
or  the  careful  housekeeper,  who  look  at  books  with  the  bod- 
ily eye,  why  in  an  expensive  and  luxurious  library  there  is 
often  carefully  preserved  some  shelf  of  these  worthless  and 
battered  volumes  which  they  would  consign  to  the  paper 
maker  or  the  flames.  They  little  know  what  precious  mem- 
ories are  stored  upon  that  shelf  and  gather  about  each  of 
those  soiled  and  damaged  books.  But  the  books  which 
most  viv^idly  bring  back  to  the  owner  his  youthful  self 
will  be  those  few  favorite  authors,  which  he  longed  so  ear- 
nestly to  possess  when  he  first  conceived  the  idea  of  fiu-m- 
ing  a  library  of  his  own.  How  often  did  he  ponder  the 
questions.  What  book  or  books  did  he  care  most  to  possess? 
or  Which  could  he  afford  to  buy?  How  often  did  he  go 
into  the  book-shop  and  gaze  upon  and  handle  i\\Q  much 
coveted  volume !  It  may  have  been  some  work  of  a  poet 
like  Byron  or  Scott,  who  had  first  waked  in  his  soul  the 
feeling  for  poetr}',  or  an  old  philosopher  like  Butler  or 
Berkeley,  or  a  new  philosopher  like  Coleridge,  or  a  newer 
sage  like  Carlyle  or  Emerson.  What  fresh  and  fervid  as- 
sociations arc  wakened  within  him  as  the  identical  volumes 
are  taken  in  hand  which  twenty  or  forty  years  before  he 
carried  home  without  weariness  and  installed  upon  his  emp- 
ty shelves  with  such  positive  delight.  Ui)on  these  sIujIvos 
they  still  remain.  Though  they  have  been  almost  crowded 
out  by  other  favorites  they  never  can  bo  thrust  wholly 
a.side,  for  they  hold  their  place  as  witnesses  and  memorials 
of  tastes  and  moods  which  can  never  be  forgotten,  though 
they  may  have  been  long  outgrown.     Other  shelves  testily 


Ciur.  xxiL]  The  Library.  365 

to  later  passages  in  his  life's  progress ;  one  to  an  awakened 
passion  for  history,  another  to  a  newly  kindled  zeal  for 
literary  criticism.  In  one  division  stand  the  sophists  who 
weakened  the  faith  of  the  owner  in  the  fixed  principles  and 
the  severe  moralities  of  his  childhood's  faith.  In  another 
the  wise  teachers  who  recovered  him  from  these  sophistries 
and  bewilderments.  The  field  of  the  intellectual  activities 
and  the  objects  of  the  prevailing  tastes  of  one  decade  of  his 
life  are  here.  Those  of  another  are  there.  One  group  of 
books  was  purchased  in  the  excitement  of  a  zeal  and  of 
ardent  purposes  which  were  soon  dissipated  into  irresolu- 
tion and  sloth.  As  the  eye  of  the  industrious  reader  runs 
along  the  shelves  of  his  library  in  an  hour  of  musing,  it 
can  read  upon  them  the  successive  passages  that  make  up 
the  history  of  his  life.  In  view  of  facts  like  these  it  is  not 
in  the  least  surprising  that  so  many  have  cleaved  to  their 
libraries  with  so  fond  an  aifection,  and  have  learned  to  con- 
ceive of  them  as  parts  of  themselves,  as  in  a  sense  visible 
and  tangible  embodiments  of  their  own  being ;  or  that  they 
part  from  their  beloved  books  with  especial  tenderness 
when  they  part  from  their  lives.  Many  a  student  Avill 
understand  and  appreciate  the  desire  of  Prescott  the  his- 
torian that  when  arrayed  for  the  grave  he  might  be  left 
alone  .in  the  library  which  had  been  so  long  the  scene  of 
his  labors  and  the  object  of  his  zealous  care. 

The  transmission  of  a  library  to  another  generation,  espe- 
cially if  it  was  carefully  selected  or  M^as  the  object  of  its 
owner's  special  affection,  is  to  many  a  matter  of  no  little  im- 
portance— with  no  less  reason  surely  than  the  preservation 
of  silver  or  other  heirlooms  which  belonged  to  a  parent  or 
near  relative.  The  latter  witness  to  the  taste  of  the  owner 
as  to  material  form  or  workmanship,  or  perhaps  are  inter- 
esting memorials  of  the  arts  of  another  generation.  The 
other  is  a  memorial  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  tastes  of 
the  spirit  as -well  as  an  image  of  the  culture  and  the  pro- 


366  Boohs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xxri. 

ducts  of  the  generation  in  which  he  lived.  The  haste  and 
apparent  heartlessuess  with  which  the  libraries  of  students 
and  literary  men  are  often  broken  up  after  their  death  is 
something  surprising  and  offensive.  To  know  that  the 
library  of  Scott  still  stands  in  Abbotsford,  that  the  library 
of  Daniel  Webster  remains  unsold  in  Marshfield,  that  the 
library  of  Theodore  Parker  is  kept  intact  and  unbroken  in 
the  Boston  city  collection,  that  the  library  of  Charles 
Julius  Hare  stands  by  itself  in  the  library  of  Trinity  Col- 
lege at  Cambridge,  is  far  more  satisfactory  to  our  feelings 
than  it  is  to  hear  that  the  libraries  of  Thackeray  and 
Dickens  wei'e  sold  and  distributed  within  a  few  months  after 
the  death  of  each.  The  extravagant  prices  at  which  many 
of  their  books  were  sold  must  have  been  more  satisfactory 
to  their  heirs  than  the  fact  that  they  were  willing  to  sell 
the  books  at  all,  is  pleasing  to  the  admirers  of  their  former 
owners.  It  would  seem,  at  least,  that  the  disintegration  of 
a  beloved  library  which  has  been  the  outgrowth  of  a  read- 
ing life  and  is  itself  a  transcri])t  of  its  history  might  some- 
times be  delayed  a  few  months  longer,  out  of  decent  respect 
to  the  associations  with  whicii  it  is  hallowed.  It  not  unfre- 
quently  happens  that  it  passes  unljrokcn  into  the  library  of 
some  public  institution,  and  remain  as  an  honored  memo- 
rial of  the  individual  and  his  times;  of  his  own  liberality 
or  that  of  his  family.  The  library  of  a  reading  clergyman, 
which  has  been  consecrated  alike  by  his  love  of  books  and 
his  love  of  his  people,  if  he  dies  among  them,  should  never 
be  disposed  of  except  to  become  the  permanent  possession 
of  the  parish. 

Thoughts  of  the  personal  library  suggest  those  of  its 
natural  enemies,  the  booJc-horrowcr,  wlio  delays  or  forgets  to 
return  the  books  whi<.'h  he  borrows — and  (he  hooh-stealer, 
who  never  intends  to  restore  the  l)ooks  which  have  come 
into  his  ]>ossess:on  l)y  a(!cident  or  design.  AVide  lacAin(V. 
gaping  for  months  or  years  testify  to  the  carelessness  of  the 


Chap.  XXIT.]  The  Library.  367 

book-borrower,  and  the  impatient  and  sometimes  indignant 
reflections  of  the  owner  as  tliese  unfilled  places  and  broken 
sets  meet  his  eye,  testify  to  his  sense  of  abused  kindness 
and  confidence.  May  the  shadow  of  the  book-borrower 
very  soon  be  less  or  may  his  habits  speedily  be  reformed ! 
May  the  succession  speedily  be  broken  and  his  lineage  be 
altogether  cut  off!  As  to  the  book-stealer;  the  enormity  of 
his  offense  cannot  be  expressed  in  language.  Words  would 
fail  altogether  to  set  forth  his  ill-desert  and  infamy.  The 
Book-collector  and  the  Biblio-maniac  have  been  too  often 
commemorated  to  receive  more  than  a  passing  tribute  of 
respect.  We  honor  their  zeal  and  admire  their  eccentri- 
cities, for  we  see  in  their  excesses  only  the  luxuriance  of 
noble  impulses  and  worthy  aspirations.  They  are  the 
anchorets  of  literature,  the  devotees  whose  very  excesses  re- 
proves and  puts  to  shame  the  coldness  and  negligence  of 
ordinary  worshipers. 

From  the  library  of  the  individual  we  pass  to  the  library 
of  the  household;  from  the  private  to  the  home  library. 
Every  home  should  have  its  library  even  if  it  does  not 
comprise  a  score  of  volumes.  "  A  house  Avithout  books," 
says  H.  W.  Bcecher,  "  is  like  a  room  without  windows. 
No  man  has  a  right  to  bring  up  his  children  without  sur- 
rounding them  with  books  if  he  has  the  means  to  buy 
them.  A  library  is  not  a  luxury  but  one  of  the  necessaries 
of  life.  *  *  A  book  is  better  for  weariness  than  sleep  ; — 
better  for  cheerfulness  than  wine ; —  *  *  *  i^  is  often  a 
better  physician  than  the  doctor,  a  better  preacher  than  the 
minister,  a  better  sanctuary  than  the  drowsy  church."  The 
presence  of  good  books  in  any  house  is  a  sign  of  elevation 
and  a  perpetual  reminder  of  the  wants  and  aspirations  of 
the  higher  nature.  Books  lay  hold  of  the  intellect  and 
character  in  ways  that  can  neither  be  anticipated  nor  traced. 
The  child  that  grows  up  in  the  presence  of  books  will  feel 
their  power  almost  before  he  is  allov/ed  to  open  them.     If 


368  Books  and  Reading^  [Chap.  xxir. 

books  are  provided  iii  a  house,  some  one,  at  least,  of  the 
family  will  develop  a  taste  for  reading  them.  The  entire 
household  will  by  degrees  form  the  habit  of  consulting 
books,  and  of  answering  from  books  the  many  questions 
suggested  by  conversation  or  the  newspapers.  The  irre- 
pressible zeal  for  reading  manifested  by  a  single  member 
of  the  family  will  excite  the  envy  or  the  emulation  of  the 
remainder.  Leisure  hours  which  might  have  been  wasted 
in  indolence  or  worse  than  wasted  in  sin  will  be  beguiled 
by  the  tale  or  instructed  by  the  history.  The  conversation 
of  the  household  will  concern  more  profitable  themes  than 
the  gossip  of  the  hour.  Higher  aims  and  ideals  will  be 
proposed.  Contentment,  industry  and  frugality  may  be 
learned  from  books.  The  lessons  of  duty  are  taught  and 
the  aspirations  of  piety  evoked  by  a  good  home  library. 
Such  a  library  will  stimulate  and  direct  ihe.  desire  to  em- 
bellish the  house  and  decorate  the  grounds.  It  will  en- 
courao-e  intclli"cent  skill  in  the  raanag;emeut  of  one's  trade 
or  profession  and  even  in  regulating  the  economies  of  the 
household.  By  its  presence  and  influence  the  family  will 
rise  to  a  higher  plane  of  true  culture  and  the  realization  of 
a  more  intelligent  moral  and  Christian  life.  There  is  no 
good  economy  in  dispensing  with  a  library.  It  is  almost 
better  to  dispense  with  a  carpet.  It  is  certainly  cheaper  to 
do  without  a  new  set  of  fashionable  furniture.  "  I  should 
like  of  all  things  to  spend  from  three  to  five  hundred  dol- 
lars in  a  library,"  said  a  gentleman  in  active  business,  with 
some  thousands  of  capital  at  his  command,  "  but  I  cannot 
afford  the  interest  of  the  investment."  He  did  not  reflect 
that  the  house,  the  furniture  and  the  equipage  which  he 
could  not  forego,  were  all  an  investment  of  capital,  return- 
ing no  rents  in  money,  but  manifold  in  comfort  and  civili- 
zation. It  may  not  be  wise  to  spend  a  large  amount  of 
money  at  once  upon  a  library,  but  it  is  wise  to  regard  boolcs 
among  the  necessaries  of  life  and  to  allow  the  library  to 


Cjap.  XXII.]  The  Library.  369 

come  in  for  its  share  of  the  outfit  of  the  household,  as  well 
as  for  its  portion  of  the  yearly  expenses.  A  few  books,  at 
least,  should  be  found  in  every  home,  and  be  kept  constantly 
within  reach,  however  ample  the  facilities  furnished  by 
the  public  library.  These  books  no  family  should  be  con- 
tent to  be  without  for  a  day.  They  are  so  to  speak  the 
foundation  stones  of  the  library.  An  English  dictionary, 
a  good  atlas,  an  encyclopedia  of  some  sort  are  among  these 
books.  We  assume  that  the  house  will  have  a  Bible  and 
some  kind  of  a  commentary  or  Bible  dictionary.  Beyond 
these  no  directions  can  be  given  in  respect  to  the  home  li- 
brary which  cannot  be  gathered  from  the  discussions  of  the 
several  topics  of  which  we  have  treated.  Brief  Suggestions 
for  Household  Libraries  is  the  title  of  a  useful  tract  issued 
in  1867  by  G.  P.  Putnam  &  Son,  to  which  are  appended 
specimen  catalogues  of  libraries  of  different  sizes,  the  first  of 
350  volumes,  the  second  of  500  additional  volumes,  and 
the  third  of  450  more ;  to  which  are  appended  the  titles 
of  "a  collection  of  50  volumes  of  useful  and  desirable  books 
in  economical  and  compact  editions  for  a  young  man's  book 
shelves."  This  tract  was  a  useful  guide  for  the  time  when 
it  was  issued,  and  with  additions  from  books  since  pub- 
lished, may  do  good  service. 

The  Home  Library  should  have  a  place  for  its  contents^ 
even  if  it  no  more  than  fills  a  candle-box  or  occupies  only  a 
single  shelf.  The  light  of  the  house  should  stand  upon  a. 
candlestick.  The  household  Penates  should  be  honored  with 
a  shrine,  whether  the  home  be  hired  apartments,  a  rude  cabin 
or  a  contracted  cottao-e.  The  fountain  of  intellio-ence  and 
refinement  should  be  found  in  a  place  that  is  convenient, 
neat  and  tasteful^  whether  this  place  is  a  tidy  corner  of  the 
kitchen,  a  tasteful  recess  in  the  sitting  room  or  a  separate 
apartment.  If  the  library  has  a  room  by  itself,  this  should 
be  suitably  furnished  and  decorated,  not  too  daintily  for 

common  and  comfortable  use,  but  cheerfully  and  attrac- 
24 


370  BooJcs  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xxii. 

tivcly  to  the  eye  and  the  mind.  It  should  at  times  be  the 
resort  of  the  children  and  the  gathering-place  of  chosen 
friends,  that  boolcs  and  the  use  of  books  may  be  associated 
with  innocent  pleasures  and  common  duties. 

Tlie  books  of  tlie  Home  Library  should  bo  choice  books 
and  in  general  select  and  standard  volumes.  The  books  of 
one  house,  whether  there  is  a  score  or  a  thousand,  often  reveal 
the  fact  that  they  have  been  picked  up  by  chance,  either 
at  the  solicitations  of  the  persistent  book  agent  or  the  sug- 
gestions of  a  vagrant  fancy.  Those  of  another  indicate  at 
a  glance  that  they  were  chosen  with  definite  purposes  and 
by  a  discriminating  judgment.  If  the  home  remains  to 
the  second  or  third  generation,  let  not  the  library  be  scattered, 
but  let  the  books  of  the  preceding  generation  testify  to  the 
intelligence  and  the  refinement  of  those  whose  spirits  are 
gathered  with  the  dead.  With  tlie  portraits  of  the  persons  of 
parents  and  relatives,  there  should  always  be  connected  the 
books  which  represent  their  inner  life.  Manifold  are  the 
thoughts  and  instructive  the  musings  which  are  suggested 
by  the  family  library  in  the  few  homes  in  which  it  is  re- 
tained in  the  ownership  of  successive  generations. 

The  Home  Lil)rary  suggests  the  lihrari/  of  the  com- 
munity, whether  this  community  be  a  neighborhood,  a 
school,  a  parish,  a  village,  a  city,  a  college  or  a  State. 

The  establishment  of  a  neighborhood  or  a  village  library 
is  as  natural  and  almost  as  necessary  as  the  setting  up  of  a 
grist  mill  or  a  town  pump.  When  individuals  and  families 
sensibly  feel  the  want  of  books  and  cannot  supply  them 
from  their  separate  resources,  they  proceed  to  provide  a 
common  supply.  The  social  library  indicates  an  advance 
in  civilization  in  respect  to  the  development  of  wants  and 
the  capacity  to  supply  tliem.  It  was  an  epoeli  in  tlie  history 
of  certain  of  the  older  States  wlien  such  libraries?  began  to 
be  common.  This  was  not  far  from  tliat  awakening  into 
life  which  terminated  in  the  war  of  independence.     The 


Chap.  XXII.]  The  Library.  371 

new  communities  that  went  out  from  those  of  the  older  states 
which  had  school-houses  and  social  libraries,  established 
both,  long  before  their  log  houses  disappeared.  Daniel  Web- 
ster's intellectual  growth  was  nourished  from  the  little  li- 
brary which  his  father  started  in  the  beginnings  of  a  pioneer 
settlement,  when  books  were  few  and  costly.  Dr.  Franklin 
contributed  largely  to  the  establishment  of  these  social  libra- 
ries. In  1731  he  and  some  few  of  his  friends  in  Philadel- 
phia procured  fifty  subscribers  of  forty  shillings  each  as  cap- 
ital, and  ten  shillings  a  year  for  forty  years.  In  1742  a 
charter  was  obtained,  and  the  number  of  subscribers  was 
increased  to  one  hundred.  "This  was  the  mother  of  all  the 
North  American  subscription  libraries  now  so  numerous." 
"These  libraries,"  Franklin  adds,  "have  improved  the  gen- 
eral conversation  of  the  Americans,  made  the  common 
tradesmen  and  farmers  as  intelligent  as  most  gentlemen  in 
other  countries,  and  perhaps  have  contributed  in  some  de- 
gree to  the  stand  so  generally  made  throughout  the  colonies 
in  defence  of  their  privileges."  In  1786  Dr.  Franklin  made 
a  present  of  H6  volumes  to  the  town  of  Franklin  in  Massa- 
chusetts which  took  his  name ;  on  occasion  of  which  gift, 
the  Pastor  preached  a  sermon  upon  the  text  "  Show  thyself 
a  man."  Eighty  years  ago  it  was  observed  by  a  traveler,  of 
the  people  of  this  country,  "It  is  scarcely  possible  to  con- 
ceive the  number  of  readers  with  which  every  little  town 
abounds.  The  common  people  are  on  a  footing  in  point 
of  literature  with  the  middle  ranks  of  Europe."  Subscrip- 
tion or  share-holders'  libraries  existed  in  almost  all  the 
towns  of  New  England  at  the  beginning  of  the  present  cen- 
tury. The  consequences  were  that  there  was  no  little 
activity  of  thought,  especially  in  regard  to  history,  polities 
and  theology.  The  curiosity  of  the  youth  of  both  sexes 
was  stimulated  as  well  as  their  taste  for  imaginative  litera- 
ture. Those  M'lio  were  especially  fond  of  reading  had  ample 
leisure.     The  books  in  these  libraries  were  solid  and  sub- 


372  Boohs  and  Beading.  [Chap.  xxir. 

stantial.  Though  their  number  was  not  great  and  their 
contents  riot  over  exciting,  yet  they  awakened  such  a  mea- 
sure of  solid  and  thoughtful  intelligence  as  has  been  known 
in  but  few  other  communities  in  the  world's  history.  One 
of  these  village  libraries  the  writer  has  abundant  occasion  to 
remember.  It  was  founded  in  1795,  and  still  survives,  num- 
bering with  all  its  losses  by  use  and  sale  and  distribution 
nearly  two  thousand,  among  which  are  several  of  the  orig- 
inal well-worn  volumes.  At  the  time  referred  to  it  consisted 
of  some  seven  hundred  books  all  bound  in  leather  and  care- 
fully protected  by  an  additional  cover  of  brown  sheep  skin. 
The  books  were  kept  in  substantial  and  locked  eases,  in  the 
front  and  rear  halls  of  an  old-fashioned  square  dwelling- 
house.  The  meetings  for  drawing  and  returning  books 
were  held  on  the  first  Sunday  evening  of  every  month. 
The  share-holders  or  their  representatives  assembled  in  tiie 
ample  kitchen  which  was  always  made  tidy  and  cheerful 
for  this  grave  assembly  of  the  chief  personages  of  the  vil- 
lage. As  one  and  another  dropped  in,  each  with  his  month- 
ly load  of  books  (three  was  the  quota)  ajid  sa\v»them  credited, 
he  took  his  place  in  the  circle  which  speedily  numbered 
some  twenty  or  thirty.  Conversation  had  already  started 
in  knots  or  in  common,  upon  tlic  topics  of  fresh  interest  at 
home  or  abroad,  in  which  the  freest  interchange  of  opinion 
was  indulged.  This  exchange  was  immeasurably  supeinor 
to  that  of  the  modern  newspaper  for  the  vividness  and 
interest  of  the  impression.  To  boyish  ears  and  minds,  the 
revelations  of  character  and  the  utterances  of  novel  thoufjchts 
were  most  instructive  and  exciting.  When  the  hour  for 
receiving  books  arrived,  the  names  M'cre  drawn  by  lot,  and" 
the  person  whose  name  was  first  had  tiie  choice  from  tha 
library.  The  newest  books  were  naturally  preferred.  Every 
book  as  it  was  drawn  was  set  np  for  a  bid,  which  rarely  in 
those  frugal  times  exceeded  or  reached  eight  or  ten  cents,  after 
the  sharjxjst  competition  even  for  the  last  of  the  Waverly 


Chap.  XXII.]  The  Library.  373 

series.  But  all  this  has  gone  by.  The  library  now  stands 
in  the  office  of  the  Town  Clerk,  is  open  at  all  hours,  and  the 
excitements  of  the  "  library  meeting"  have  vanished  forever. 

In  many  of  the  cities,  these  subscription  libraries  have 
grown  to  very  expensive  and  valuable  collections.  The 
Boston  Athenaeum,  and  the  Society  Library  of  New  York, 
are  of  this  character.  Some  of  these  have  been  opened  to 
the  public  on  payment  of  annual  subscriptions.  More 
recently,  public  libraries  in  cities  and  large  villages  havo 
boen  founded  by  public-spirited  individuals  who  have  sub- 
scribed liberally  for  a  building  and  the  purchase  of  books, 
which  have  been  made  accessible  to  any  one  by  the  pay- 
ment of  an  annual  fee.  Young  Men's  Institutes  and  simi- 
lar Associations,  have  formed  libraries  substantially  upon 
this  plan,  with  the  addition  of  courses  of  lectures,  at  first 
for  instruction  and  improvement,  more  recently  for  amuse- 
ment and  pecuniary  gain.  Circulating  or  lending  libra- 
ries have  usually  been  individual  enterprises.  Free  JPublio 
Lihrarks :  Siio-o-estions  on  their  Foundation  and  ]Mana2;c- 
ment,  is  a  valuable  pamphlet  issued  by  the  American  Social 
Science  Association. 

Book  clubs  are  often  a  good  substitute  for  a  social  li- 
brary where  none  exists,  or  a  supplement  to  it  v/hcn  a  few 
neighbors  wish  to  read  a  special  class  of  boolcs  which  the 
library  cannot  furnish  or  cannot  furnish  readily.  It  is  easy 
to  organize  a  book  club  with  no  more  than  five  persons  if 
they  will  agree  "to  pay  in  an  annual  subscription  and  buy  a 
few  books.  Attach  to  the  fly  leaf  of  each  the  following 
directions,  with  the  nanies  of  the  subscribers  arranged  in 
the  order  of  their  residence,  with  blank  columns  for  enter- 
ing the  date  when  the  book  was  received  and  when  it  M-as 
sent  to  the  next  neighbor.  "  Boohs  to  he  forivarded  on 
Saturday.  Books  may  he  retained  li  days  for  the  first 
reading^  28  days  for  the  second  reading.  Five  cents  fine 
for  each  day's  detention  over  14."     When  the  book  has 


374  Boohs  and  Reading,  [Chap.  xxii. 

gone  the  round  it  should  be  sent  to  the  librarian,  and  when 
the  company  please  to  order  it,  the  books  can  be  disposed  of 
by  lot  or  by  sale.  The  volume  from  which  these  regula- 
tions were  copied  is  numbered  1481,  and  the  club  has  ex- 
isted for  some  thirty  years. 

An  important  impulse  has  been  given  to  the  establish- 
ment of  librai'ies  in  connection  Avith  the  increased  interest 
awakened  in  our  Public  Schools.  In  some  of  the  states  the 
effort  has  been  made  to  provide  every  school  district  with 
a  library  which  should  rtot  only  be  adapted  to  the  wants 
of  those  attending  upon  the  schools  but  to  the  necessities 
of  the  whole  community.  In  the  State  of  New  York  par- 
ticularly, considerable  appropriations  have  been  made  by 
the  legislature  M'ith  the  design  of  establishing  libraries 
"not  so  much  for  the  benefit  of  cliildren  attendin<r  school, 
as  for  those  who  have  completed  their  common  school  edu- 
cation. The  main  design-'was  to  throw  into  school  dis- 
tricts, and  to  place  within  reach  of  all  the  inhabitants,  a 
collection  of  good  works  on  subjects  Ciilculated  to  enlarge 
their  understiindings  and  store  their  minds  with  useful 
knowledge."  The  suggestion  was  very  natural  that  the 
school  system  which  furnished  elementary  instruction  for 
the  young  might  properly  continue  to  minister  light  and 
knowledfjce  with  the  advancinjj  vcars  of  successive  school 
generations.  It  was  also  believed  that  the  money  and  organ- 
ization required  for  the  sustentat!o:j  of  a  school  might  be 
advantageously  used  for  the  sui)port  of  a  public  library. 
The  plan  has  })een  tried  with  varying  success.  Tlic  ob- 
jections are  obvious.  School  teachers  and  school  com- 
mittees are  not  necessarily  the  most  suitable  trustees  for 
tlie  management  of  a  library  for  all  classes  of  readers. 
They  would  naturally  be  tempted  to  devote  too  large  a 
share  of  the  library  to  books  recpiired  by  teachers  and 
adapted  to  young  persons.  In  ordinary  school  districts 
says  a  competent  witness,  "  Experience  proves  that  it  is 


Chap,  xxh.]  The  Library.  375 

impracticable  to  maintain  libraries  for  general  reading. 
They  are  usually  too  feeble  to  awaken  popular  interest,  or 
claim  proper  care  or  protection.  By  uniting  the  interests 
and  resources  of  a  whole  town,  suitable  cases,  room  of 
building,  and  a  responsible  librarian  are  secured.  Among 
a  dozen  districts,  each  library  grows  diminutive,  and  at 
length  the  books  are  scattered  beyond  recall."  (Rev.  B.  G. 
Northrop,  School  Report  for  Conn.  1868.)  An  experi- 
ment made  to  establish  public  libraries  in  the  State  of 
Rhode  Island  as  an  auxiliary  to,  but  not  as  a  part  of  the 
public  school  system,  was  successful  in  every  town  except 
four.  It  was  backed  by  the  liberal  contributions  of  in- 
dividuals, but  its  success  was  owing  to  the  untiring  zeal  for 
four  years,  1846-1849,  of  the  then  school  commissioner, 
Hon.  Henry  Barnard. 

Out  of  this  movement  for  school  libraries  another  has 
grown  into  form,  the  establishment  of  free  Town  Libraries 
by  the  action  of  the  towns  themselves.  Its  history  is  not 
uninteresting.  In  1847,  Rev.  Francis  Wayland,  doubtless 
excited  by  the  movement  then  in  progress  in  Rhode  Island, 
tendered  five  hundred  dollars  to  the  town  in  Massachusetts 
which  bore  his  name,  "  on  condition  that  its  citizens  should 
secure  an  equal  amount  for  a  town  library."  More  than 
the  sum  required  was  raised  by  subscription.  But  as 
doubts  were  raised  about  the  right  of  a  town  to  tax  its 
inhabitants  for  a  library  building,  Rev.  John  B.  Wight,  a 
representative  from  the  town  in  1851,  procured  the  enact- 
ment of  a  law  authorizing  cities  and  towns  to  establish 
and  maintain  public  libraries.  This  has  led  to  the  forma- 
tion and  enlargement  of  many  libraries,  some  of  which  have 
been  generously  endowed  by  private  munificence  as  well 
as  by  public  taxation.  In  not  a  few  cities  and  villages 
of  several  states  the  library  is  established  in  the  affec- 
tions of  the  community.  Not  only  is  it  generously  sup- 
ported, but  the  books  which  it  contains  are  extensively 


376  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xxil 

used  by  a  large  number  of  the  inhabitants.  In  Boston  the 
Public  Library  is  pointed  out  to  the  visitor  as  the  pride  of 
the  city.  In  Springfield  a  handsome  building  has  been 
erected  containing  a  valuable  library,  which  is  maintained 
by  the  city  and  is  free  to  all.  In  Stockbridge  and  Lenox, 
buildings  appropriate  and  substantial  contain  the  village 
libraries  which  private  generosity  and  public  taxation  have 
provided  and  sustained.  In  not  a  few  of  the  cities  and 
large  towns  the  name  of  some  public-spirited  citizen 
or  former  resident  is  remembered  by  the  library  which  is 
called  after  his  name.  The  name  of  Logan  is  thus  honored 
in  Philadelphia,  the  name  of  Astor  in  New  York,  the  name 
of  Watkinson  in  Hartford,  of  Branson  in  Watcrbury,  of 
Otis  in  Norwich  and  of  Cheney  in  South  Manchester,  the 
names  of  Jackson  and  Goodrich  in  Stockbridge,  and  the 
name  of  Peahody  in  Danvcrs  and  Baltimore.  There  is 
scarcely  a  village  in  the  older  settlements  from  which  some 
citizen  has  not  gone  forth  Avho  has  acquired  a  fortune  more 
or  less  ample.  If  he  would  be  honorably  remembered 
among  the  scenes  of  his  childhood  and  youth  he  can  ac- 
complish his  desire  in  no  way  so  usefidly  as  by  erecting  a 
simple  fire-proof  building,  and  founding  a  village  library. 
We  have  4ilready  observed  how  hard  it  is  for  the  student 
to  part  from  his  books — and  how  painful  the  thought  that 
his  library  must  be  scattered.  This  can  be  avoided  by  giv- 
ing one's  library  to  the  collection  of  the  jjarish  or  the  town, 
or  by  depositing  it  in  the  care  of  some  public  institution. 
The  learned  library  of  tlio  Mathers  still  remains  in  the 
Antiquarian  Hall  at  Worcester  to  testify  to  the  learning 
of  its  collectors  and  the  lore  of  their  times.  The  library 
which  Rev.  Thomas  Prince  gathered  with  such  pains  and 
expense  for  fifty  years,  was  kept  by  the  church  of  which  he 
was  j^astor  for  more  than  three  quarters  of  a  century,  and 
is  now  committed  to  the  public  library  of  Boston.  A  clioice 
library  carefully  collected  by  a  country  clergyman  in  New 


Chap.  XXII.]  The  Library.  377 

England  was  given  by  his  widow  to  an  infant  university 
in  Oregon. 

It  will  be  thought,  perhaps,  that  we  ought  not  to  over- 
look the  Sunday-School  Library.  AVe  had  designed  to 
speak  of  this  and  of  juvenile  literature  in  general,  but  the 
subjects  are  too  important  to  be  disposed  of  in  a  chapter. 
That  children  are  over-stimulated  with  reading  we  do  not 
doubt.  That  the  quality  is  often  as  objectionable  as  the 
quantity  of  their  books  is  no  less  clear  to  our  minds. 
We  are  equally  well  satisfied  that  the  Sunday-School  and 
juvenile  library  too  often  take  the  place  of  the  home 
and  the  public  library;  and  indeed,  that  children  are 
jsampered  to  so  great  an  excess  that  their  appetite  ibr  good 
reading  is  not  infrequently  ruined.  It  becomes  of  less  con- 
sequence that  the  supply  of  wholesome  books  for  such 
adults  is  often  cut  short  by  the  expenditure  required  to 
still  the  imperious  cries  of  the  young  Olivers  for  "  more." 

The  college  and  university  library  must  not  be  left  with- 
out notice.  We  oifer  no  argument  for  their  utility.  It  is 
self-evi.dent  that  without  a  complete  library  no  institution 
of  learning  can  attain  the  highest  rank,  or  continue  to  at- 
tract or  educate  scholars  of  finished  culture. 


We  began  these  papers  by  introducing  a  savage  to  a 
public  library.  We  cannot  more  appropriately  conclude 
them  than  by  imagining  a  thoughtful  scholar  <o  take  his 
place.  The  same  objects  meet  the  bodily  eye,  but  very 
diiferent  are  the  thoughts  which  the  books  awaken  in  the 
soul  that  has  been  refined  and  enriched  by  the  culture 
which  books  impart.  They  recall  the  history  and  achieve- 
ments of  the  forgotten  past.  Ev^ery  volume  suggests  a 
living  author  who  thought  and  toiled  in  history,  or  spec  - 
ulation,  or  experiment ;  in  eloquence,  or  poetry,  or  fiction. 
At  the  reading  of  the  titles  the  scholar  thinks  of  these 


378  Books  and  Reading.  [Chap.  xxil 

men  as  still  living,  then  of  the  generation  of  men  among 
whom  they  labored,  then  of  their  honorable  fame  or  their 
deserved  infamy,  of  their  pure  aspirations  or  their  de- 
basing passions,  of  their  greatness  or  their  meanness,  of 
their  precious  legacy  of  solid  truth  and  quickening  emo- 
tions or  of  pernicious  sophistry  and  vile  suggestions.  The 
topic  has  been  often  treated  of,  but  by  no-  writer  more 
briefly  and  eifectively  than  by  Southey  in  the  lines  which 
a  house  filled  with  hoohs  and  a  life  devoted  to  reading 
were  fitted  to  inspire. 

My  days  amoug  the  dead  are  past ; 

Around  mo  I  behold. 
Where'er  these  casual  eyes  are  cast, 

The  mighty  minds  of  old. 
My  never-failing  friends  are  they. 
With  whom  I  converse  day  by  day. 

With  tbem  I  take  delight  in  weal. 

And  seek  relief  in  woe  ; 
And  while  I  understand  and  feel 

IIow  much  to  them  I  owe, 
My  cheeks  have  often  been  bcdew'd 
With  tears  of  thoughtful  gratitude. 

My  thoughts  are  with  the  dead ;  with  them 

I  live  in  long-past  years; 
Their  virtues  love,  their  faults  condemn. 

Partake  their  hopes  and  fears; 
And  from  their  lessons  seek  and  find 
Instruction  with  an  humble  mind. 

My  hopes  are  with  the  dead :  anon 

My  place  with  them  will  be, 
And  I  with  them  shall  travel  on 

Through  all  Futurity : 
Yet  leaving  here  a  name,  I  trust. 
That  will  not  perish  in  the  dust. 


INDEX. 


A. 

At)bott,  Ilistory  of  Austria,  178  ;  Histo- 
ry of  Uusssia,  178. 

Adams,  Samuel,  life  of,  20O. 

Adams,  W.jOn  ethics,  315. 

Addison,  J.,  critical  papers,  293. 

Advice  respectiug  books  and  reading, 
desired  by  many  classes,  6,  7;  value 
of,  y,  Vi,  14 ;  bow  minutely  can  it  be 
given  ?  8 ;  often  deemed  impertinent 
and  unwelcome,  13. 

Ag!issiz,  L.,  on  cbissification  and  other 
works,  o04,  305,  300,  307. 

Agriculture,  etc.,  works  on,  307,  308. 

Aidy  to  faith,  33i. 

Alford,  II.,  the  Queen's  English,  301; 
how  to  study  tlio  New  Testament,  337. 

Alexander  of  Macedon,  lifa  of,  108. 

Alexiind(T,  A.,  Moral  philosophy,  315. 

Alexander,  W.  L.,  Christ  and  Christiani- 
ty, 331. 

Alison,  history  of  Europe,  179 ;  on  taste, 
29?. 

Allen,  R.  L.,  domestic  animals,  308. 

AUston,  life  of,  204. 

American  history,  189-192 ;  political 
writers,  191-192  ;  Revolution,  history 
of,  192;  poets  of  the  Slodern  school, 
263;  critics,  of  the  Old  school  and 
New,  298. 

Anacliarsis,  Travels  in  Greece,  170. 

Analettic  magazine,  311. 

Ancient  poets,  singular  purity  of  the 
best,  91;  history,  works  on,  167  ;  lite- 
rature, history  of,  172,  '3. 

Angus,  hand-book  aud  specimens  of  Eng- 
lish literature,  2J3. 

Andrews,  S.  J.,  Life  of  our  Lord,  338. 
Andrew  .Marvel,  44. 

Auticliristian  literature,  extent  of  its  in- 
fluence, 122,  "3;  its  prospects,  124. 
Antoninus,  M.,  312. 
Aristophanes'  representation  of  Socrates, 

So  ;  translation  of,  172. 
Aristotle,  translations  from,  172. 
Arnold,  Matthew,  grand  style  in  poeti-j', 
24i ;    definition   of     poetry,    245 ;    on 
creative  literary  genius,  275;  his  cri- 
tical works,  297. 
Arnold,   Thomas,     24,32;    remarks    on 
Christ's  place  in  the  mind  of  a  Chris- 
tian critic,  122;  history  of  Rome,  cri- 
tical, 132 ;  on  the  Christian  miracles, 


and  Strauss,  135 ;  a  Christian  historian, 

140  ;  his  history  of  Rome,  etc.,  charac» 
terized,  171 ;  his  lectores  on  modem 
history,  193  ;  the  life  o^  208,  '9,  213 ; 
sermons  on  the  Christian    life,   339. 

Arnold,  T.,  2d,  manual  of  English  literap 
ture,  293. 

AUibone,  Critical  dictionary,  etc.,  292. 

Anti-Christian  literature,  122, 123. 

Arber's  reprints,  292. 

Arkwright,  life  of,  204. 

Argyll,  duke  of,  The  reign  of  law,  334. 

Art  aud  architecture,  works  on,  299,  300. 

Ascham,  R.,  the   schoolmaster,  etc.,  320. 

Atheist,  the  ancient  compared  with  the 
modern,  109,  '10. 

Attentiou  in  reading,  chapter  on  III.,  28- 
30 ;  first  and  foremost  rule,  31 ;  should 
not  be  applied  with  uniform  intensity, 
32;  great  energy  at  times  of,  32, 33;  evils 
of  neglecting,  33 ;  rules  for  enforcing, 
34;  dependent  on  excitedinterest,3C,  38. 

Augustine,  Confessions  of,  339. 

Auerbach,  pictures  of  German  life,  235. 

Austin,  J.,  on  jurisprudence,  310. 

Author,  brouglit  into  communication 
with  tiie  reader,  20 ;  in  his  best  or 
worst  condition,  21,  '2  ;  the  spirit  and 
Influence  of,  lives  after  death,  22 :  who 
writes  to  amuse,  20;  his  indirect  influ- 
ence important  to  be  considered,  27; 
relation  of  the  reader  to,  chapter  oa 
V,  4S— 02. 

Autobiographies,  210 ;  of  du  Barri,  Cel- 
lini, Franklin,  Gibbon,  Lord  Herbert, 
Hume,  Vidocq,  Volt.tire,  Wolf  Tone, 
211 ;  a  collection  of,  212. 

B. 

Babbage,  C,  ninth  Bridgewater  treatise, 
333. 

Bacon,  Lord,  on  studies,  10;  referred  to, 
20:  his  estimation  of  the  imagination, 
75  ;  life  of,  199;  on  poetry,  259  ;  essays 
(Wliately's  editionj,  319  ;  his  estimate 
of  Theology,  322. 

Bad  scenes  and  characters  must  some- 
times be  described,  95. 

Basehot,  W.,  English  constitution,  367. 

Baillio,  J.,  poetrv,  203. 

Bain,  A.,  phil.  works,  313;  psychology, 
313  ;  on  ethics,  315. 

Balzac,  pictures  French  life,  235. 

379 


880 


Index. 


Bancroft,  G.,  24;  his  indirect  influence, 
68 ;  exaggerating  style  of,  130 ;  parti- 
san habit  of,  I'M;  sometimes  romances 
in  history,  102 ;  defects  of  his  history, 
190. 

Barnum,  S.  W.,  Bible  Dictionary,  '.iST. 

Barnes,  A.,  Evideucea  of  Christianity, 
etc.,  335. 

Bascom,  J.,  Psychology,  313. 

Biistiat,  ¥.,  on  pol.  economy,  318. 

Barrow,  20. 

Baxter,  K.,  20;  his  life  and  times,  184; 
his  saint's  rest,  339. 

Bayard  series,  the,  292. 

Biiyiic,  P.,  essays,  321. 

Beadle's  dime  novels,  222. 

Beard,  J.  K.,  Voices  of  the  church,  334. 

Becker,  W.  A.,  Churicles,  170;  Gallus, 
171. 

Beecher,  H.  W.,  53;  his  life  thoughts, 
etc.,  321 ;  on  home  library,  3C7. 

Beecher,  L.,  lif*  of,  208. 

Belial,  Milton's,  78. 

Bell,  Sir  Charles,  life  of,  203,  204;  writ- 
ings of,  305. 

Ben  Jonson  and  Shakspeare,  encounters 
between,  278. 

Beniis,  on  International  questions,  318. 

Benton,  T.  H.,  Thirty  years'  view,  191, 
317  ;  abridgement  of  debates,  192 ;  life 
of,  201. 

Bentham,  J.,  on  ethics,  315. 

Berkeley,  G.,  phil.  works,  313 ;  his  min- 
Hte  jihilosopher,  334. 

Bernard,  M.,  on  British  neutrality,  318. 

Bible,  the  study  of,  335,  338. 

Bibliduiauiac,  the,  3C7. 

Biographical  dictionaries,  217;  Lippin- 
cott's,  217;  llole's  brief,  217;  Wheeler, 
editor  of,  217;  Thomas's,  217. 

Biogr.iphia  literaria,  its  influence,  295. 

Biographical  value  of  works  of  Sliak- 
speare,  Milton,  Cowper,  Wordsworth, 
Byron,  Shelley,  Tennyson,  284. 

Biognipliies  of  Knglisbmen  which  are 
historical,  189. 

Biography,  (and  biographical  reading), 
chapter  on,  XIV.,  195-217;  rfdations  to 
hwtory,  195  ;  may  be  considei-ed  in  two 
relations,  195 ;  is  unattractive  to  many 
persons,  195 ;  reasons  why,  196;  difter- 
ent  classes  of,  196-'204;  biographies  of 
incident  and  adventure,  190-198;  of 
great  generals  and  cajitains.  198;  of 
historical  ptirsouages,  198-9  ;  of  great 
statesmen,  etc.,  199-201 ;  of  great  re- 
formers, 201-202;  of  self-made  men, 
5!02-2O4;  biography  interesting  to 
those  who  analyze  the  character, 
205;  psychological,  "iOtS ;  interesting  to 
a  limited  class  of  readers,  207 ;  over- 
done sometimes,  2(J7;  made  up  of  dia- 
ries and  letters,  208-9 ;  of  men  of  sci- 
ence and  letters,  209-210;  aatobiog- 
raphlcB,  210-212:  B.  attrnctive,  212; 
ethically  profitable,  212  213;  even  of 
bad  men,  214 ;  should  lie  liberally  read, 
214;  two  rules  for  selection  of,  215; 
lumbering  and  indiscriminate,  216, 
217;   lines  on,  217. 

Blackstone'g  Commentaries,  316. 

Blackwood's  magazine  described,  69 ; 
its   influence  on   the  principlesj  69; 


language  on  indecency  of  modern  wri- 
ters, 92  ;  referred  to,  29G,  343. 

Blakey,  R.,  Hist,  of  moral  science,  314. 

Blacksmith,  the  learned,  life  of,  204. 

Bledsoe,  A.  T.,  Theodicy,  334. 

Blunt,  J  J.,  Undesigned  coincidencos.335. 

Boeckh,  A.,  Public  economy  of  Athens. 
171. 

Bohemian,  the,  not  earnest,  26 ;  of  the 
modern  newspaper,  354-5. 

Bronte,  ('.,  life  of,  208. 

Brougham,  life  of,  200. 

Bolingbioke  on  the  study  of  history,  193. 

Book,  influence  of  one,  4,  6. 

Book,  what  it  is,  chapter  on  II.  18-27; 
definition  of,  18;  importance  of  defini- 
tion, 27;  if  stupid  worse  than  a  stupid 
man,  50 ;  if  diflicult,  none  the  less 
valuable,  67  ;  if  bad  religiously  may  be 
worse  than  a  bad  man,  1U3;  though 
irreligious  must  often  be  read,  104. 

Book  borrower,  the,  300. 

Book  clubs,  see  library. 

Book  collector,  the,  367. 

Book  farming,  307. 

Book  stealer,  the.  cG6. 

Books  inexplicable  to  a  savage,  2, 3 ;  nml- 
tiplication  of,  5;  fewness  of  in  other 
times,  5 ;  classes  of,  cdn  be  descril)ed,  9 ; 
carelessness  concerning  the  quality  of, 
19;  always  written  by  men,  19;  n'pre- 
Bcnt  the  best  or  worst  parts  of  an  au- 
thor, 21,  22  ;  in  every  case,  23 ;  should 
be  read  first  which  supply  a  want,  .'18; 
and  relate  to  our  business  or  jiiofes- 
sion,  39;  that  amuse  are  often  useful, 
49;  that  give  usiiotliing  are  worthless, 
49;  often  are  worse,  50;  moral  influ- 
ence of  cliajjter  on  VII.,  72-80;  tested 
by  Southey's  rule,  72,  73. 

Books  on  the  Knglish  language,  301. 

Books  on  ethics,  314. 

Books  on  the  Fine  Arts,  299,  ;V(XI. 

Books  on  the  history  and  criticism  of 
Kngli.sh  literature,  292,  299. 

Books  on  Moral  Philosophy,  314. 

Books  on  Philolo^'y,  301-2. 

Books  on  Pliysiology,  313. 

Books,  Keligioiis,  good,  324;  goodish, 
31.5;  good  for  nothing,  326;  worse 
than  nothing,  326. 

Books  of  science  and  dutv,  chapter  on 
XlX.,30a-321;  how  far  treated,  303;  on 
natural  science,  303-306 ;  natural  his- 
tory, 306-7;  agriculture.  307-8;  psy- 
chology, philosophy,  and  ethics,  SOS- 
SIS;  on  speculative  philosophy.  308- 
314;  on  veg.  physiology,  314;  politics 
and  jurisprudence,  315-318;  political 
economv,  318;  minor  and  social  mor- 
als, 818-321. 

Books  and  reading  as  a  theme,  .1;  increas- 
ing inlluence  of,  5;  tlieir  influence  on 
the  opinions  and  i)rinciples,  chapter 
on  VI,  02-71:  when  avowed,  62,  63; 
cautious  concerning,  Oil;  when  indi- 
rect and  unconscious,  64  ;  illustrated 
by  Gibbon's  history,  04-67  ;  by  Hume's 
history ,'07, '8;  by  Bancroft  anil  Hil- 
dreth,"  08, '9;  by "  Black wofid's  Maga- 
zine and  the  Westminster  Review,  69, 
70;  byCarlyle,  O.  W.  Holmes,  Emer- 
son, llawth'ome  and  Thcreau,  70 ;  the 


Index. 


381 


moral  influence  of,  chapter  on  VII,  72- 

80  ;  their  religious  cliaracter  and  iu- 

fluenco,  cliapter  on  IX,  101 — '10. 
Boston  lectures,  335. 
Botta,  history  Am.  Revolution,  192. 
Bowon,   F.,  as   critic,  298 ;   his   Kssays, 

313 ;  his  Political  Economy,  318 ;   his 

Lowell  lectures,  334. 
Boyd,  A.  II.,  Miscellanies,  321. 
Brace,  C.  L.,  Races  of  tlie  Old  World, 

167. 
Bremer's  (Miss)  novels,  jncture  Swedish 

life,  234. 
Bridgewater  Treatises,  the,  333. 
British  Essayists,  320. 
Brougham,  Lord,  as  critic,  294  ;  Natural 

Theology,  331. 
Brown,  John,  life  of,  202. 
Brown,  John,  Spare  Hours,  298,  320. 
Brown,  T.,    I'hilosoiiUical  Works,  313; 

psychology,  313. 
Browne,  Sir  Thos.,  quotation  from,  85  ; 

Kssays,  320. 
Browne,  R.  W.,  translation  of  Kicoma- 

cliean  ethics,  312. 
Browning,  Mrs.  E.  B.,  lines  about  read- 
ing, !J2 ;  a  favorite,  C3 ;  her  poetry,  203. 
Brownson,  0.  A.,  as  critic,  298,  '9. 
Bryce,  H.,  the  Holy  Roman  empire,  176. 
Buchanan,  J.,  History  of  administration, 

192,  317. 
Buchanan,  Rev.Dr.,  modern  atheism,  333. 
Buxton,  T.  F.,  life  of,  202,  '8,  9,  '13. 
Buckle,  a  necessitarian  in  history,  141 ; 

his  philosophy  of  history,  193. 
Buhver,  E.  L  ,  expresses  his  own  personal 

thoughts  and  feelings,  23,  53;   moral 

influence  of,  81,  87;  Athens,  etc.,  170; 

Rienzi,  177  ;  last  of  the  Barons,  187  ; 

his  novels  picture  English  society,  234. 
Bungfuer,  Preacher  and  king,  179. 
Buonaparte,  Nap.,  life  of,  197,  "8. 
Burke,  Edmund,  report  concerning  his 

attention   in  reading,  32;   reflections, 

179;  history  of  European  settlements, 

190;  life  of,  200;  on  tlio  sublime  and 

beautiful,    299;     reflections    on    the 

French  revolution,   317. 
Bunsen,  life  of,  208. 
Bunyan,  life  of,  207. 

Burnett,  the  prize  essays  on  tlieism,  333. 
Burnett,  G.,  unconsciously  i)artisan,  130 ; 

history  of  his  own  time,  1S4. 
Burns,  Rohert,  77  ;  how  esteemed  by  liis 

countrymen,  80;  moral  influence  of, 

81;    life    of,  208;  his  poetry  and  his 

times,  263. 
Burr,  Aaron,  life  of,  201. 
Burr|  E.  F.,  Ecce  Coslura,  306,  '34. 
Burr,  F.,  Field  and   garden  vegetables, 

308. 
Burleigh,  life  of,  199. 
Burton,  diary  of.  44, 186. 
Bushnell,  II.,  Work  and  play,  etc.,  321  ; 

Nature  and  the  Supernatural,  334;  his 

sermons,  339. 
Butler,  Charles,  a  saving  of,  52,  '3. 
Butler,  Hudiliras,  184. 
Butler,  J.,  Analogy,  334. 
Butler,  W.  A.,  History  of  ancient  philo- 

sopliy,  311. 
Buxton,  T.  F.,  anecdote  of  Sir  E.  Sug- 

den,  S6  ;  a  reformer,  202. 


Byron,  expresses  his  personal  thoughts 
and  feelings,  25, 53 ;  moral  influence  of, 
81 ;  representation  of  Lucifer,  84  ;  his 
Manfred  contrasted  with  Hamlet,  85-6; 
\.  D.  Maurice  on,  87  ;  freedom  of  allu- 
sions in,  89 ;  relition  to  the  Lake  Poets, 
203 ;  poetry  and  his  times,  268. 


c. 

Calcott,  Mrs.,  History  of  Spain,  17T. 

Calderwood,  U.,  Phil,  of  the  Infinite,  313, 
337. 

Calhoun,  J.  C,  life  of,  201 ;  on  govern- 
ment, 316 ;  writings  and  speeches  of, 
317. 

Cambridge  Essays,  298. 

Camiibeirs  poetry  and  his  times,  2G3. 

Canterbury  Tales,  251,  2o0. 

Carey,  H.  C,  on  political  economy,  318. 

Carlen's,  Miss,  novels  picture  Swedish 
life,  234. 

Carlyle,  T.,  on  the  choice  of  books,  10, 
53 ;  his  influence  on  the  principles,  70 ; 
romances  in  history,  102 ;  Frederic  the 
Gnat,  178;  French  Revolution,  178;  on 
Cromwell,  184 ;  on  Heyne's  Virgil,  274 ; 
as  critic,  296 ;  essays,  320. 

Civrpenter,  W.  15.,  Physiologies,  314. 

Castle  of  Otranto,  47. 

Catalogue  of  good  books  not  easily  given, 
8;  furnished  by  Dr.  Johnson,  9,  10;  by- 
two  New  England  clergymen,  11,  12. 

Chalmers,  T.,  life  of,  ^208,  33+;  Nat.  the- 
ology, 334 ;  his  Christianity  an  argu- 
ment, 334. 

Cesars,  the  lives  of,  198. 

Chalybius,  II.  M.,  philosophy  from  Kant 
to  Hegel,  311. 

Chambers'  Encyclopedia  of  English  liter- 
ature, 292. 

Channing,  W.  E.,  essaj's,  320;  his  evi- 
dences of  Christianity,  334. 

Charlemagne,  life  of,  198. 

Charles,  Mrs.,  English  historical  noveI% 

Charles  I.,  life  of,  199. 

Charles  V.,  life  of,  199. 

Charles  XII.,  life  of,  197. 

Chatham,  life  of,  200. 

Cliaucer,  the  age  of,  characterized,  261, 
285. 

Chevy  Chase,  sample  of  early  history, 
126. 

Children,  their  deference  for  books,  18. 

Christ  has  the  right  to  regulate  our  read- 
ing, 104 ;  has  influenced  the  greatest  of 
poets  and  novelists,  105 ;  his  commands 
liberal  but  uncompromising,  100;  posi- 
tive faitii  in  his  person  not  yet  died 
out,  116;  must  be  reverenced  if  the 
literature  is  Christian,  117  ;  emphasis 
of  his  personality  not  ceased,  117 ; 
pictured  in  his  words,  281 ;  the  imita- 
tion of,  339. 

Christus  consolator  and  Christus  re- 
demptor,  illustrate  Christ's  place  in 
literature,  118. 

Christian  ethics  should  perv.ade  Christian 
literature,  115:  evidences,  the  books  on, 
331-5;  historians,  examples  of,  141; 
literature   misconceived,    16;    antici- 


382 


Index. 


pated,  100 ;  how  conceived  and  defined, 
chapter  on  X.,  111-124;  involves  two 
questions,  111 ;  wiiut  it  is  nut,  111-114; 
not  necessjirily  theologiciil,  but  may 
be,  111,  112;  docs  uot  include  nil  doc- 
trinal writing,  112 ;  usually  nut  secta- 
rian, 113,  114;  need  not  be  lormally 
religious,  114;  what  it  should  be,  114- 
117;  must  be  controlled  by  Christian 
ethics,  114,  115;  must  have  faith  in 
Christ's  person,  116;  must  reverence 
Him,  117  ;  these  criteria  reasonable, 
118 ;  historically  just,  119 ;  not  intoler- 
ant, 120;  not  discourteous,  121;  not 
prescriptive,  121 ;  antichristianlit^the 
extent  of  Its  infUn'iiee,  122,  123. 

Christianity  not  rwponsible  for  doggerel 
and  drivelling,  113;  more  than  an 
ethical  system,  llii ;  Histories  of,  173-4. 

Church  History  for  Sunday  reading,  339. 

Cicero,  letters  of,  171 ;  phil.  works  of, 
translated,  312. 

Civil  war  in  America,  works  on,  192. 

Clay,  speeches  of,  l!t2;  life  of,  201. 

Clarendon,  history  of  the  rebellion,  183. 

Clarke,  J.  F.,  Steps  of  belief,  334. 

Cleveland,  C.  D.,  Manuals  of  English 
literature,  298. 

Cobbt",  F.  P.,  on  ethics,  315. 

Clinton,  Dewitt,  life  of,  201.    » 

Cobbett,  W.,  miscellanies,  320. 

Clive,  Lord,  life  of,  198. 

Cocker,  B.  F.,  Christianity  and  Greek 
philosophy,  312.  ■ 

Cobden,  life  of,  200. 

Coleridge,  Hartley,  aa  critic,  296;  his 
essays,  320. 

Coleridge.  8.  T.,  criticisms,  10:  cannot 
hide  his  feelings,  26,  53 ;  his  descrip- 
tion of  novel  reading,  238;  his  prose 
poetic,  244;  on  poetry,  2C0 ;  as  critic, 
295 ;  escays,  320  ;  aids  to  reflection,  334. 

Collier,  earlier  English  literature,  292. 

Colton,  C.  C,  essays,  320. 

Colman,  U.,  European  life  and  manners, 
1Q9. 

Commonplace,  danger  of,  9,  12,  13. 

Comus,  Milton's,  79. 

Conant,  11.  C,  History  of  the  Kng.  Bible, 
837. 

Coningtou's  Virgil,  173. 

Conybcare  and  llowson.  Life,  etc  ,  of  St. 
Paul,  ;i:i8. 

Cooke,  J.  P.,  Religion  and  chemistry, 
306. 

Cordelia,  Shakspeare's,  79. 

Compromise  between  literary  taste  and 
Christian  principle,  107. 

Country'l'arson,  the,  miscellanies,  321. 

Course  of  reading,  a,  is  a  picture  of  the 
times,  11. 

Courses  of  reading,  defects  of,  10. 

Cousin,  lectures  on  Locke,  312. 

Cowper,  W.,  77  ;  effict  of  the  reading 
of,  249 ;  his  poetry  and  his  times,  203. 

Cox,  G.  W.,  mythological  treatises,  172. 

Cox^  History  of  the  house  of  Austria, 
178. 

Crablje's  poetry  and  his  times,  263. 

Craik,  History  of  English  literature, 292. 

Creaxy,  K.  8,,*Knglisli  constitution,  307. 

Critical  liooks  on  single  writers,  265. 

Critical  method  in  history   shaped    by 


Niebuhr,  131,  '2 ;  followed  by  Arnold 
and  Grote,  132;  judges  wisely  of  the 
ancients,  1153  ;  defends  the  supematu- 
.ml,  134. 

Criticism  of  English  liteniture,  books 
on,  292 — 'JSy ;  and  history  of  litera- 
ture, chapter  on  XVII,  26:i— 283 ;  a 
special  department,  265 ;  the  new — 
see  New  criticism  ;  of  English  litera- 
ture, cliapter  on  XVIII,  286—302  ;  has 
an  admirable  field,  280  ;  by  the  lan- 
guage and  the  lile  of  the  ijcojile,  285, 
'6  ;  in  the  time  of  Chaucer,  286 ;  in 
the  age  of  Shakspeare  and  tlie  diania- 
tists,  287;  in  the  age  of  Milton,  etc  .288; 
of  Uryden,  288  ;  of  Pope,  289;  of  John- 
son, etc.,  280;  of  the  Frencli  revolu- 
tion, 289,  '90 ;  of  Kyron  and  the  lakers, 
291 ;  appliances  for  the  study  of,  291 — 
299;  of  art,  299—306. 

Critics,  distingtiished  modern,  2C5 ;  of 
Shakspeare,  277 ;  sometimes  overdo, 
277,  '8;  but  alwavs  stimulating,  <i78. 

Croly,  G.,  Salatliiel",  174. 

Cromwell,  life  of,  199. 

Ciidworth,  U.,  Eternal  Morality,  315. 

Cumberland,  R.,  De  lepibus  natuitp,  315. 

Curtis,  G.  T.,  origin  of  the'constitution, 
191,  316. 

Curtius,  E.,  manual  history  of  Qreece, 
170. 

D. 

Dalton,  the  chemist,  life  of,  204. 
Dalton,  E.  C,  jihysiology,  314. 
Dallas,  E.  S.,  his  gay  science,  298. 
Dana's  household-book  of  poetry.  257. 
Dana's,  J.  D.,  manuals  in    nat.  history, 

3()6. 
Dante,  expresses  his  personal  thoughts 

and  feelings,  2.'). 
Dandy,  Noah  Webster's  definition  of,  24. 
Darlington,  Am.  wei'ds,  etc.,  307. 
Darwin,  C,  origin  of  species,  314. 
Dates  of  history,  how  instructive,  150. 
Davv,  Sir  U.,  life  of,  204;  Sulmonia,  etc., 

320. 
Day,  H.  N.,  Introduction  to  English  lite- 
rature, 2^»3. 
D'Aubignc,  history  of  the  Reformation, 

176. 
De  Foe,  D.,  political  and  other  essays, 

320. 
De  Imitatione  Christi,  112. 
D'lsrai'li's  Critical     and    Miscellaneous 

works,  296. 
De  Lolme,  J.  L.,  English    constitution, 

.317. 
Dennle,  J.,  essays,  320. 
De  Prcssense's,  Jesus  Christ,  etc.,  338. 
De  Quincev,  T.,  as  critic,   290 ;    essays, 

320. 
Descartes,  R.,  Meditations,  etc.,  312. 
Desdemona,  Shakspeare's,  79. 
De  Retz,  mchioirs  of,  179. 
De  .Stael,  .'Mad.,  French   Revolution,  180. 
De  Toc(iui^vill<>,  Democracy  in  America, 

.310. 
De  Vere,  Srhele,  Studies  In  English,  301. 
Devotional  works,  not  always  literature, 

112;   devotional   books  and  reading, 

338,  '9. 


Index, 


383 


Dlcken",  P.,  21,  53;  cannot  hide  his  feel- 
ings, '2o;  ctliiail  truth  of,  8S ;  iiillu- 
eiice  on  Ins  rvadei's,  'SM ;  his  novels 
l-icturo  Kugilisli  society,  '^-il. 

Dictionary,  a,  represents  tlie  leelings  of 
its  author,  28 ;  the  iiuglish,  uses  of, 
302. 

Doctrinal  novels,  95,  225. 

lioctor,  the,  extract  from,  72,  '3. 

Dodsley's  annual  register,  IbS,  29-1. 

Doggerel,  religious,  not  to  be  imputed 
to  Christianity,  113. 

Douglass,  Kred,,  life  of,  197. 

Downing,  A.  J,,  landscape  gardening, 
308, 

Dublin  afternoon  lectures,  297, 

Dunliip,  arts  of  design  in  the  U,  S,,  300. 

Dumas,  pictures  French  life,  2:io, 

Dunlop,  History  of  lloman  literature, 
173, 

Dutch  history,  works  on,  178. 

Duty,  books  on,  314. 

Duykinck,  cyclopedia  of  American  lite- 
rature, 29J. 

Drake,  N.,  critical  works,  296. 

Dramatist,  the,  expresses  his  own  opin- 
ions and  feelings,  i!4. 

Draper,  W.,  a  physiological  historian, 
1-10,  '1  ;  his  philosophy  of  history,  193; 
his  physiology,  3H, 

Drivelling,  religious,  not  chargeable  to 
Christianity,  113. 

Dryasdu.st,  Dr.,  astonishes  a  savage,  3 ; 
blessings  on,  165. 

Dryden,  J.,  44;  poetry  of  his  time,  2G2, 
iOs  ;  as  critic,  206. 

Dwight,  15,  W,,  modern  philology,  301, 

Dwiglit,  T,,  history  of  the  Hartford  con- 
vention, 191  ;  on  Jefi'ersou  and  the 
Hartford  convention,  317. 


E. 

Eastlake,  C.  L.,  on  tlie  Fine  arts,  300. 

Kcce  Homo,  331. 

Edinburgh  Essays,  298;  Review,  341, 
343,  ^4. 

Edwards,  Jonathan,  on  ethics,  315, 

Egyptian  history,  works  on,  167,  '8, 

Eliot,  George,  21,  53 ;  caunot  hide  his 
feelings,  25  ;  Dinah,  118,  '19  ;  Romola, 
177;  influence  on  his  i-eaders,  230; 
novels  picture  English  society,  234, 

Eliot,  J.,  debates  on  the  constitution, 
316, 

Ellen,  ladv,  Scotfs,  80, 

Elliot,  Sir  John,  life  of,  200. 

Ellis,  U.,  as  critic,  298, 

Ellis,  Mrs,,  essays,  320. 

Elizabeth.  Queen,  life  of,  199;  affe  of, 
287, 

Emerson,  O,  B.,  forests  and  shrubs  of 
Mitss,,  306, 

Emerson,  K.  W.,  on  books,  TO;  his  in- 
fluence on  the  opinions,  70  ;  alleged 
pantheism  compared  with  that  of  the 
.ancients,  108:  estimate  of  Christ's 
Personality,  117,  'S,  '9;  Conduct  of 
Life,  and  other  works,  321, 

Emotion  in  religion,  not  always  favor- 
able to  thought,  323, 

England,  its  history  and   career  deter- 


mined by  its  geographical  position, 
155,  '6;  histiiries  of,  lb0-1^9, 

English  history,  importance  and  in- 
terest of,  1>0,"'1  ;  books  ou;  180—189; 
poets  of  the  modern  school,  263  ;  lan- 
guage and  its  literature,  285;  peuplo 
and  life,  285,  "6  ;  literature,  liooks  on, 
292 — 2j9;  humorists,  Thackeray's,  ^96; 
language,  the  books  on,  301;  gram- 
mars, 301 ;  use  of,  302, 

Englishmen  whose  biographies  are  his- 
torical, 1.S9. 

Epicureanism,  modern,  in  literature,  123. 

Kpictetus,  »12, 

Erckmaun-Chatrian,  novels,  162, 179. 

Errand  boy  at  a  book-stall,  34. 

Erskine,  T.,  internal  evidencej  334. 

Essayists,  the  british,  3z0. 

E.ssays,  moral  and  social,  etc.,  318 — 321. 

Essex,  life  of,  199. 

Ethics,  books  on,  314. 

Etliics,  Christian,  i>ervade  and  control 
Cliristian  literature,  114, '5 ;  are  dis- 
tinguished   from   Pagan    ethics,   115. 

Ethical  value  of  biography,  212. 

Eugene,  I'rince,  life  of,  198. 

Eugene  Sue,  pictures  French  life,  235. 

Euler,  L,,  letters  on  natural  philosophy, 
306, 

Eustace,  J,  C,  classical  tour  in  Italy,  171. 

Evelyn,  diary  of,  44,  164,  184, 

Everetts,  the,  as  critics,  2JS. 

Evidences  of  Christianity,  books  on, 
33 1,  '5. 

Ewald,  history  of  the  people  of  Israel, 
168. 

Excise,  Johnson's,  definition  of,  23. 


F. 

Fairbairn,  P.,  Bible-dictionary,  337. 

Fairchild,  J,  II,,  moral  philosophy,  315. 

Faraday,  M.,  life  of,  204 ;  writings  of, 
305. 

Falkland,  Lord,  life  of,  200. 

Farmer,  the,  his  interest  in  books  of 
agriculture,  40, 

Farrar,  A,  S,,  Science  and  Theology ,  334 ; 
critical  history  of  Free  Thought,  335. 

Farrar,  F.  W,,  on  language,  301, 

Faith,  religious,  should  be  founded  on 
rejison,  102. 

Ferrier,  J.  F,,  Institutes  of  Metaphysics, 
313. 

FawcStt,  II.,  on  political  economy,  318. 

Federalist,  the,  316, 

Feltham,  0,,  Essays,  320, 

Felton,  C,  J,,  Greece,  ancient  and  mod- 
ern, 170. 

Ferguson,  life  of,  204. 

Ferguson,  .7,,  history  of  architecture,  300. 

Ficlite,  J.  G.,  phil.  treatises,  313. 

I'iction,  reading  of  proscribed  by  many, 
73;  unwisely,  74;  defended  a-s  inno- 
cent and  positively  useful,  74 — 80; 
(prose)  of  recent  origin,  219  ;  new  era, 
of.  219  ;  rapid  growth  of,  219,  '20. 

Figuier,  the  library  of  wonders,  307. 

Filthy  novels,  225. 

Fine  arts,  books  on,  299,  300, 

Finlay,  G..  books  on  ancient  and  modern 
Greece,  171. 


384 


Index. 


Fisher,  O.  P.,  on  supernatural  Christian- 
ity, S^. 

Five  centurif'i  of  Englisli  literature,  292. 

Fleming,  W.,  Manual  motal  phil.,  316. 

Flint,  O.  L..  grasses  and  forage  plants, 
3  7  :  milch  cows,  etc.,  '■M)S. 

Forsyth,  W.,  life  of  C'icen),  171. 

FoMler,  J.,  life  of,  208  ;  essays,  320. 

Founders  of  libraries — see  library. 

Forbes,  Kdwiird,  life  of,  201. 

Fowler,  T.,  Inductive  logic,  301. 

Fowler,  W.  C,  Knglish  grammar,  301. 

Fox,  C.  J.,  James  II,  18.5  ;  life  of,  200. 

Fox,  Ueorge,  life  of,  202. 

Fniuklin,  B.,  read  with  interest,  42 ;  life 
of,  201,  '3,  '4 ;  ills  essays,  320  ;  his  in- 
terest in  libraries,  371. 

Francis  I.,  life  of,  19J. 

Frederick  the  Great,  life  of,  198,  '9. 

Freeman,  Norman  conquest,  187. 

Frere,  J.  II.,  translation  of  Aristophanes, 
172. 

French  history.  179,  '80. 

French  revolution,  histories  and  tracts, 
179,  '80. 

Freytag,  pictures  German  life,  235. 

Frithiof's  snga,  12(). 

Froude,  A  ,  24;  believes  in  human  free- 
dom, 141;  sometimes  romances  in 
history,  102  ;  history,  merits  of,  183; 
short  stndies,  etc.,  321. 

Fuller,  A.  S.,  small  fruit  culturist,  B^S. 

Fuller,  Thos.,  account  of  Shakspeare  and 
Ben  Jonson,   278 ;  essays,  320. 

Fuller,  Margaret,  life  of,  208. 

Fuseli,  sculjitors  and  architects,  299. 

Fulton,  life  of,  204. 


o. 

Gainsborough,  life  of,  204. 

Gaskell's  (.Mrs.)  novels,  pictures  English 
society,  234. 

Qeijer,  history  of  the  Swedes,  178. 

Geography,  its  importance  to  history, 
1S3,  '4;  to  the  philosophy  of  history, 
1">4. 

Gentleman's  magazine,  etc.,  294. 

German  history,  works  on,  178. 

German  critics,  influence  in  England,  295 

George  111.,  life  of,  V.I9. 

Gibbon,  K.,  '^4,  32:  his  history  charac- 
terized, 64, '.'( ;  its  inllui'uce  on  the 
principlis,  0.->,  '6,  '7;  partisan.  l.'JO; 
cajitainof  Hants  militia,  I'tH;  decline 
and  fall,  etc.,  174,  '.'»;  nnnotated  edi- 
tions, 174:  abridgement  of,  174. 

Gladstone,  W.  E.,  Jnventus  Mnndl,  172. 

Godwin,  history  of  England,  |S;i. 

Goethe,  expresses  his  personal  thoughts 
and  feelings,  2.t;  moral  influence  of, 
81 :  Faust,  the  devil  in,  Xt> ;  his  confes- 
sions of  a  l>cantiful  sonl,  118  ;  on  Ham- 
let, 27« ;  as  critic,  29B. 

Golden  treasury,  by  Palgrave,  2.i7. 

Goldwin  Smith — see  Smith. 

Good  books,  how  deflned.  :i24  ;  signs  of, 
3;iO— 33:5;  individual.  :{:«J ;  free  from 
cant.  ;K1I  ;  stimulating,  3.'?2. 

Oooflinh   books,  hctw  deflned,  32.'). 

Goodrich's  British  elotjuence,  186. 

Goodjear,  life  of,  204. 


Gould,  E.  S.,  Good  English,  301. 

Gould,  A.  A.,  manual  in  nat.  history,  300 

tinimmars,  English,  3ol. 

Graniniuut,  memoirs  of,  184. 

Urandisoii,  Charles,  219. 

Grant,  Uen'l,  life  of,  198 

Grattan,  history  of  the  Netherlands,  178. 

Gray,  A.,  manuals  in  uat.  history.  306  ; 
field,  garden  and  torest  botany,  307  ; 
how  plants  grow,  314. 

Gregory,  0.,  Evidences  of  revealed  reli- 
gion, 335. 

Greece  and  Greek  history,  works  on,  169 
—171. 

Greeks,  the  ancient,  can  be  found  only 
in  their  literature,  278.  '9. 

Greeley,  H.,  American  cojiflict,  192;  his 
antobiogra|)hy,  204. 

Greene,  U.  W.,  Lectures  on  the  middle 
ages,  17  ;  lectures  on  the  Americiin 
Revolution,  192. 

Griffith  (jaunt  contrasted  with  Peg 
Woffiiigton,  93. 

Grindon,  II.  L.,  iilant-life,  314. 

Grossness  of  language  in  older  writers 
explained  by  F.  AV.  Newman,  91,  '2; 
in  modern  writers  partially  excused 
and  exidaiued.  93. 

Grote,  0.,  32;  history  of  Greece,  how 
read  by  a  lady,  45;  history  of  Greece 
critical,  ri2;  charactevized.  170;  ana- 
lysis of  I'lato's  writings,  172;  on  So- 
crates and  Plato,  311. 

Guesses  at  Truth,  208. 

Gustavns  Adolphus,  life  of,  198. 

Guizot,  History  of  civilization  in  Europe, 
176;  history  of  civilization  in  Fiimce, 
179;  Revolution  of  lfi48;  on  Cnmiwell ; 
on  Monk,  185 ;  on  English  revolutions, 
317. 
Guyot,  A.,  Earth  and  man,  167. 


H. 

Hallam,  II.,  middle  ages  and  literature 
of  Euroi)e,  17ti;  conslituti(>nal  histo- 
ry of  England,  1S5;  introduction  to 
literature  of  Europe.  293. 

Hamilton,  A.,  life  of,  201. 

Hiiiiiilton,  Sir  Wm.,  phil.  works;  psy- 
chology, 313. 

Haniilton,  J.  A.,  reminiscences,  317. 

Hamlet,  Shakspeare's,  79 ;  contrasted 
with  Byron's  Maufred,  86, '6 ;  iuter- 
pii'ted  by  Goithc,  2Hi. 

Hampden,  .lolin,  life  of,  200. 

Hansard,  debates,   180. 

Ilardwick,  C,  Christ  and  other  masters, 
3;i8. 

Hare,  C.  J.  (and  A.),  Guesses  at  Truth, 
320;  iirescrvation  of  his  library,  3(10. 

Harli'ian  misiellauy,  186. 

Harris.  T.  W  .,  insects  of  Mass.,  300— 
3(IK;  on   till-  pig,  308. 

Hartley,  1).,  on  man,  313. 

Harviird  bioBrajihies,  198. 

Havelock.  Genl,  life  of,  198. 

Haven,  J.,  psychology,  313;  monil  phil- 
o.sopliy,  31  ."i. 

Hawthorne,  N.,  .13;  his  influence  on  the 
oiiiniouB,  70  ;  power  over  his  readers, 
230. 


Index. 


3S5 


Ilaydon,  life  of,  204. 

Ilazlitts  critical  essays,  10;  as  critic, 
^90 ;  essays,  3J0. 

Hiclcocls,  L.  1'.,  psychology',  313;  moral 
pliili)suj)liy,  olj. 

Hildrotli,  ]{.,  21 ;  his  influence  on  tho 
principles,  69  ;  more  or  U'ss  partisan, 
lliO;  his  history  characterized,  190. 

Hired  lad,  reads  vitli  interest,  31 

Historic  sense,  tlie,  138,  '9 ;  imagina- 
tion, the,  138,  '39. 

Historical  maps,  l.")3;  plays,  poems  and 
novels,  IGO;  sometimes  partisan,  101  ; 
dangers  of,  101;  reading  a  coarse  of, 
chapte'ion  XIII,  166-191;  personages, 
lives  of,  198,  -9. 

Histories  of  special  interest,  as  commerce, 
etc..  111. 

History  and  historical  reading,  cliajiter 
on  XI,  liu — 112 ;  taste  for,  early  de- 
veloped, 21") ;  II.,  tho  first  form  of 
■writing,  126 ;  at  first  imaginative 
and  credulous,  127  ;  narrative",  127  ; 
the  so-called  dignity  of,  128  ;  style  of 
ancient  writers,  128  ;  imitated  by  the 
modern,  128  ;  exaggeraticjns  of,  129 ; 
more  or  less  partisan,  130 ;  has  had 
two  stages,  131 ;  the  uncritical,  131  ; 
the  critical,  shaped  by  Niebulir,  131- 
132;  examples  in  Orote  and  Ar- 
nold, 132;  formerly  extolled  the  an- 
cients excessively,  133 ;  ia  now  more 
sober,  133  ;  defends  tlie  supernatural, 
134,  '5  ;  attaches  less  importance  to 
great  events,  136 ;  is  more  imagina- 
tive, 13B;  attends  to  1  ttle  things, 
136 ;  studies  the  thougbts  and  feel- 
ings of  the  past,  137,  'S ;  more  imagina- 
tive than  fo  merly,  136 — 139  ;  mora 
philosophical,  139-110;  tlio  philoso- 
pliy  of,  140;  varies  with  tlie  plnloso- 
phlcal  system  of  the  writer,  111) ;  pliy- 
siological,. necessarian  or  Christian;- 
HI. 

History,  how  to  read,  chapter  on  XIT, 
113 — 16o  ;  requires  tlie  study  of  yars, 
113  ;  requires  age  to  be  understood  and 
enjoyed.  Ill, 'a ;  how  to  dispatcli  tlie 
study  briefly,  115,  "<!• ;  sliould  bo  com- 
menced at  tlie  right  starting-point, 
147  ;  slioiild  lie  read  after  the  laws  of 
the  individual  haliits,  IIS — 153;  may 
be  useful  to  the  forgetful  man,  119 ; 
how  its  dates  and  facts  may  be  interc'-t- 
ing,  ir>0  ;  sliould  be  studied  witli  geo- 
graphy, 1"'3 — 158 ;  aided  by  the  ima- 
gination, 158,  '9  ;  by  novels,  plays  and 
poems,  liiO — 102  ;  incidental  evils  of, 
Ifil,  '2;  sometimes  becomes  romance, 
102;  supiilemented  by  biography,  163. 

History,  course  of,  chajiter  on  XI  I,  166- 
195;  ireneral  works  on,  160;  ancient, 
107:  Egyptian,  107.  ins ;  Jewisli,  108, 
109;(ireek,  ICiO,  171;  Roman,  171,  "2;  of 
Greek  and  Roman  literature,  172,  '3  ; 
of  Christianity,  171,  '5  ;  modern  his- 
tory compends,  etc.,  of,  175,  '6;  of 
Italy,  177  ;  of  Spain,  177,  '8  ;  of  Hol- 
laiKi,  178  :  of  Oermnny.  178  ;  Russia, 
178  ;  Sweden,  178  ;  of  France,  179,  '80  ; 
of  Ensrland,  180—1^9;  of  America, 
1S9 — 192:  works  on  the  pliilosojiliy  of, 
193  ;  of  England,  importance  and  in- 

25 


tercst  of,  ISO,  '1 ;    of  literature,  205 — 

283;  of  iihilosophy,  books  c.i,  310,  '11. 
Hebrew  liie,  pictured  in  the  Scriptures, 

280. 
Iloeren,  A.  II.  L.,  politics,  etc.,  of  Asiatio 

nations,    and  of  Carthagiaians,    etc., 

107. 
Helena's  household,   an  historical  talo, 

171. 
Ilclon's  pilgrimase,  337. 
Helps,  A.,  essays,  320. 
Henderson,  V.,  Oaidening  for  profit,  308. 
lleiigstenberg,  Egy|.t,  etc.,  168. 
Henry  IV,  of  France,  life  of,  198. 
Henry  YIII,  life  of,  1J9. 
Henry,  V.,  life  of,  200,  203. 
Henry,  C.  S.,  ejiitome  of  history  of  phi- 
losophy, 311. 
Herbert,  11.  W.,  Hints  to  horse-keepers, 

308. 
Herder,  J.  G.,  Spirit  of  Hebrew  poetry, 

108,  337. 
Herodotus,  credulous  and  fanciful,  127  ; 

Hawlinson's,  1(17. 
Herschel,  prelim  nary  discourse  on,  304. 
Hervey,  memoirs  of  (jeorge  II.,  185. 
Hobbes   and   Buckley,    translations    of 

Arist.  rhetoi  ic  and  poetics,  312. 
Hobbes,  T  ,  the  leviatlian,  315. 
Hogarth,  analysis  of  beauty,  299. 
Hogg's  tales,  picture  Scottish  life,  234. 
Holland,  J.  G.,  letters  of  T.  Titcomb,  etc., 

321. 
Holmes,  0.  W.,   his   Evangel,  70;   com- 
pared with  Lucian,  lUS ;  influence  OQ 

his  leaders,  230. 
Holy  living  and  dying,  the,  112. 
Home  library — see  library. 
Homer,  (ranslations  from,  172. 
Hood,  T.,  his  earnestness,  20 ;  his     es- 
says, 320. 
Hooper,   J.    A.,    forest-tree    culturist ; 

book   of  evergreen,  30S. 
Hope,  A.  R.,  book  about  dominies,  etc., 

321. 
Hopkins,  M.,  on  ethics,  315 ;  Evidences 

of  Christianity,  a35. 
Hopkins,  S.,   Lessons  from    the    Cross, 

339. 
Iloiijiin,  J.  M.,  Old  England,  189. 
llormr,    !•".,  life  of,  200,  203;  on  life  of 

Sir    Mattliew    Hale;    on  Condorcet's 

Eloge  of  Ilaller,  213. 
Household  book  of  poetry,  257. 
Howe,  J.,  Blessedness  of  the  Righteous, 

339. 
Hewitt,  W.,  Rural  life  in  England,  189; 

book  of  the  seasons,  300. 
Hudihras.  an  aid  to  historv,  1^1. 
Hudson.  II.  X.,  as  critic, -i^S,  '9. 
Humboldt,  Cosmos, 
Hniue,  D.,  21;  essays,  320;  his  history 

characterized,  67  ;    influence    on    the 

princijiles,   08,  182,  193;    a   partisan, 

l'!0;  philosophical  works,  313  ;  ethics, 

315. 
Humphrey  Clinker,  219. 
Il'.imphrey,    Old  (G.  Mogridge)    essays, 

321. 
II II 11  tor,  J.,  life  of,  204. 
Ilusman,  G.,  grapes  and  wine-makin^ 

30S. 
Iluteheson,  F.,  ethical  works.  315. 


386 


Index, 


Ilutchinson,  Col^   memoirs  of,  44,  164, 

1S3,  '200. 
Huxley,  T.  II.,  physiology,  314  ;  basis  of 

life,  314. 
Ilymns  and  hymn  writers,  338,  '9. 


I. 

Imaginative  literature  vindicated,  9 ; 
its  representations  of  moral  evils, 
chapter  on  VUI.,  80-100;  its  relations 
to  purity  and  female  reserve,  88,  94; 
iniafcinative  literature  necessarily  ethi- 
cal, U7. 

Imagination  the,  characterized  by  Lord 
Itacou,  7"). 

Imitation  of  Clirist,  the,  339. 

Imluction,  writers  on,  304. 

Inductive  sciences,  history  of,  304. 

Individualized  characters  in  fiction,  ex- 
amples of,  228. 

International  law,  books  on,  318. 

Interest  in  reading  is  created  by  reading, 
3'<. 

Introductory  chapt'-r,  1-17. 

Itiilian  history,  works  on,  177. 

Irsing,  E.,  lilo  of,  208. 

Irvin;;,  W.,  53 ;  life  and  voj-ago  of  Colum- 
bus, 177 ;  Jissays,  320. 


J. 

Jahn,  history  of  the  Hebrew  Common- 

wealtli,  l(i8. 
Jack  Sheppard,  222. 
James  Tj[.,  life  of,  199. 
James,  O.    P.  R.,    53;    the    Huguenot, 

179.  . 

Jameson,  Mrs.  as  critic,  296 ;  her  works 

on  art,  300. 
Jay,  John,  life  of,  201. 
JefTersoR,  T.,  writings  and  life,  317. 
JelTerson.  T.,lifo  of,  201. 
Jeffrey  as  critic,  2,t4. 
Jews  and  Jewish  history,  works  on,  168, 

lb9. 
Johnson,  Dr.,  list  of  books  prepared  by, 

9;  remarks  on  books  and  reading,  10: 

his  dctinitious  of  excise,  pension  and 

oats,  '23. 
Johnson,  Dr.,  life  of,  208;  as  critic,  206, 

294;   with  his  imitators  the  standard, 

209. 
Johnson,  S.  W.,  how   crops  grow,  etc., 

307. 
Joiillro.y,  T.,  ethics,  314. 
Julius  Cesar,  life  of,  iU8. 


K. 

Knne,  R  K.,  life  of,  197. 

Kant,  I.,  critic  of  pure  reason,  313,  334; 

on  ethics,  :{15. 
Knble,  J  ,  life  of,  208. 
Kemble,  works  on  Anglo  Saxon  history, 

187. 
KcniJworth,  Scott's.  80, 
Kent,  J.,  commentaries  on  Am.  law,  191, 

310. 


Kingsley,  English  historical  novels,  187; 

influence  on  his  readers,  230. 
Kitto,  J.,  Cyc.  of  llib.  literature,  337. 
Knight,  history  of  Kngland.  1S2. 
Kodi,  revolutions  of  Kurope,  175. 
Kolilrausch,  history  cf  Oermiiny,  178. 
Kuglcr,  F.X.,  baud-book  of  painting,  300. 


li. 

Ladies  desire  and  need  advice  in  respect 
to  reading,  7. 

Lady  -Maclietli,  Shakspeare's,  79. 

Lamartine,  liistories,  180. 

Lamb,  (.  harles,ou  liooUsand  reading,  10; 
his  earnestness.  26,  saying  of,  00:  life 
of,  2(18:  essays,  320. 

Lake  school  of  poets,  263. 

Laud,  life  of,  19J. 

I.,andor,  imaginary  conversations,  296. 

Langstrolh,  I.  L.,  the  honey  bee,  308. 

Liinzi,  history  ot  painting,  299. 

Latham,  K.  G.,  grammatical  works,  301. 

Lavirie,  S.  S.,  on  ethics,  315. 

Law.  W.,  serious  call,  339. 

Layard,  A.  H.,  discoveriesat  Nineveh  and 
N.and  its  remains,  167. 

Leggett,  W.,  papers  321. 

Leicester,  life  of,  199. 

Leigh  Hunt,  es-says,  320  ;  as  critic,  296. 

Leland,  J.,  Ueistical  writers,  3--5. 

Lenormaiit  and  Chevalier's  history  of 
Oriental  nations,  167. 

Lever's  novels  picture  Irish  life,  234. 

Lewes,  G.  II.,  history  of  philosophy,  311 ; 
Aristotle,  312. 

Lewis,  G.  C,  on  the  credibility  of  early 
Roman  history,  193. 

Library  the,  chapter  on  XXII.,  300-378; 
naturally  connected  with  books  and 
reading,  300;  the  itrivate  and  personal, 
360,  367  ;  for  us<!  and  for  enjoyment, 
361 ;  for  show,  361,  362;  for  curiosity, 
302;  for  friends,  362;  rei>resent8  the 
owner,  362,  303;  records  bis  jimgress, 
363,  365;  its  pri'servatiun,  366;  its 
natunil  enemies,  366,  307  .  the  home 
library,  307,370;  II.  W.  lleecher  on, 
367  ;  economy  and  cultivating  influ- 
ence of,  308;  should  have  books  of 
n'ferencc,  369;  sM/gn'tions  for,  369; 
should  have  a  place.  '369,  370  ;  should 
bi-  select  and  bo  preserved,  370;  social 
libraries,  370,  .373;  history  of  in  the  U. 
8..  '.i'l:  the  writer's  recollections  of, 
372;  city  libraries,  373;  bo(>k  clubs,  373; 
siliool  "libniries.  374,  375 ;  free  town 
liliraries,  375,  376;  founders  of,  376; 
Sunday  school  L.,  377  ;  thoughts  in  a 
liliraiy,  379. 
Liddell,   II.,    abridged    Roman   history, 

171. 
Lieber,  F.,  civil  liberty,  etc.,  316. 
Liebig,  .1.,  letters  on  <hemistry,  306. 
Lincoln.  A.,  lives  of,  192. 
Liiulsay.   A.  W.,  sketches  of  Christian 

art.  :i(K). 
Liniraril.  24;  partisan,  130;  history  of 

Lnglaiid  cliaracterized,  1S3. 
List  of  bonks  prepared   in  1792,  11  ;  da 

prepared  a  few  years  later,  12. 
Literary  history  and  criticism,  265,  283. 


Index. 


887 


Literature  must  be  Imaginative,  97; 
cheap  L.  97,  100 ;  moral  ovil  of,  98,  99 ; 
attracts  readers,  98;  not  brilliant,  99; 
contrasted  with  a  better  and  Christian 
literature,  99,  100. 

Literature  should  bo  catholic  and  libenil- 
iziiig  even  in  matters  of  religion,  105; 
has  been  of  the  greatest  service  to  reli- 
gious thinking,  105,  106 ;  furnishes  a 
neutral  and  delectable  ground  for  all 
parties,  106;  can  be  mischievously 
unchristian,  107  ;  should  not  bo  exempt 
from  religious  restraints,  107  ;  a  Chris- 
tian, how  conceived  and  defined,  chap- 
tor  on  X.,  Ill — 124;  importance  of  this 
subject.  111;  involves  two  questions, 
111 ;  what  it  is  not,  111,  114;  not  neces- 
sarily theological,  but  may  bo,  111,  112; 
does  not  include  every  devotional 
work,  112;  does  not  include  religious 
doggerel  or  drivelling,  113;  not  usually 
sectarian.  113 ;  need  not  be  formally  re- 
ligious, 114 ;  what  it  should  be,  114, 117 ; 
should  be  pervaded  by  Christian  ethical 
faiths  and  feelings,  114,  115;  must 
reverence  Clirist's  person,  117 ;  positive 
criteria  of,  reasonable,  118 ;  historically 
just,  119;  not  intolerant,  120;  not 
discourteous,  121;  not  proscriptive, 
121 ;  anti-christian  L.,  extent  of,  122, 
123;  Paganism  in  modern,  123, 124. 

Literature,  history  and  criticism  of,  2)5 — 
284 ;  how  conceived  formerly,  267  ; 
how  at  present,  268. 

Literature,  the,  of  tho  Greeks  depicts 
their  life,  278,  '9. 

Literature  of  the  Hebrews,  280,  '1  ;  of 
the  Romans,  281,  '2  ;  of  the  moderns, 
282,  '3. 

Literature  interprets  modern  history, 
282,  '3. 

Lives  of  great  criminals,  why  attractive, 
197. 

Lives  of  great  generals,  198. 

Lives  of  great  historical  personages, 
198,  '9. 

Lives  of  incident  and  adventure,  190 — 
198. 

Lives  of  statesmen,  199 — 201. 

Livy,  style  of,  128  ;  some  of  his  narratives 
rejected,  132. 

LUb'ke,  history  of  the  arts,  300. 

Lucifer  in  Byron's  Cain,  84  ;  contrasted 
with  Milton's  Satan,  84. 

Lucretius,  312. 

Luth-^r,  M.,  life  of,  202. 

Local  histories,  important  and  numerous, 
190,  '1. 

Lockf,  J.,  on  reading,  10 ;  his  essay,  312 ; 
on  government,  310. 

Lockhart,  J.  G.,  Valerius,  174;  life  of 
liurns,  208. 

London  Quarterly  Review,  341,  '3,  '4. 

Loiigl-cllow,  H.  W.,  53. 

Liomis,  K,  p'-ogress  of  astronomy,  30G. 

Lossing,  Field-book  of  tlie  Revolution, 
192 ;  I'ictorial  history  of  the  civil 
war  in  America,  192. 

Lover's  novels,  picture  Irish  life,  2.34. 

Lowell,  J.  R.,  53 ;  as  critic,  29S,  '9. 

Lowth  on  Hebrew  poetry,  16S. 

Loval  league  association,  papers  of,  317. 

Loyola,  I.,  life  of,  202. 


Itt. 

Macaulay,  T.  B.  24 ;  sometimes  romances 
in  history,  162 ;  History  of  England, 
182 ;  on  writing  history,  193 ;  life  of, 
200 ;  as  (-ritic,  294. 

Macdouald's  novels  picture  Scottish  life, 
234. 

Mackintosh  Vindiciaa  Gallicee,  179,  317  ; 
History  of  Enghmd,  182 ;  Revolution 
of  1688, 185  ;  lite  of,  200  ;  sis  critic,  294; 
history  of  ethical  philosophy,  312;  His- 
tory of  ethics,  314 ;  law  of  nature  and 
nations,  316. 

Madison  papers,  the,  191,  316. 

Mahon,  Lord,  as  historian,  183. 

Maine,  J.  S.,  History  of  ancient  law,  316. 

Mahan,  A.,  psychology,  313. 

Manfred,  contrasted  with  Hamlet,  85  ; 
F.  D.  Maurice's  estimate  of,  87. 

Manael,  H.  L.,  phil.  works,  313 ;  limits  of 
religious  thought,  334. 

Mann,  H.,  life  of,  208. 

Manuals  of  reading  often  unsatisfactory, 
9. 

Manzoni,  pictures  of  Italian  life,  235. 

Marcet,  J.,  veg.  jthysiology,  314. 

Marlborough,  life  of,  198. 

Marion,  life  of,  197. 

Marsh,  G.  P.,  works  on  the  English  lan- 
guage, 301 ;  his  man  and  nature,  306. 

Marshall,  J.,  decisions,  317. 

Martin,  History  of  France,  119 ;  History 
of  the  Colonies,  177. 

Martineau,  History  of  England,  187. 

Martineau,  J.,  essays,  313. 

Masson,  on  novels,  2'20;  as  critic,  297; 
his  British  philosophy,  313. 

Maurice,  F.  D.,  on  Byron's  Manfred,  87  ; 
his  history  of  moral  and  metaphysical 
philosophy,  310  ;  his  work  on  revela- 
tion, 334. 

Mazarin,  Cardinal,  life  of,  200. 

May,  continuation  of  Hallam,  185. 

McCliutock,  and  Strong,  eye.  of  Bib.  li- 
terature, 337. 

McCosh,  J.,  phil.  works,  313;  moral  gov- 
ernment, 334. 

M'Cosh  and  Dickie,  special  types,  etc,  334, 

McCuUoch,  J.  R.,  on  pol.  economy,  318. 

McFingal,  linos  from,  76  ;  historical 
value  of,  192. 

Mechanic,  his  interest  in  books  concern- 
ing his  trade,  40. 

Memory  bad  for  history,  remarks  on, 
148-151. 

Jlental  and  moral  science  near  to  all 
men,  309,  '10. 

Menzol,  History  of  Germany  and  the 
Germans,  178. 

Jlerivale,  C,  32  ;  Rome  under  the  Empe- 
rors, 171 ;  Conversion  of  the  Roman 
Empire,  173. 

Metcalf,  D.,  on  ethics,  315. 

Michaud,  Ilistorv  of  the  crusades,  176. 

Miclielet,  History  of  France,  179 ;  The 
Bird,  30ii. 

Mignet,  French  Revolution,  179. 

Miller,  H.,my  schools  and  schoolmasters, 
204  ;  writings  of,  305. 

Mill,  C,  History  of  the  crusades,  177. 

Mill,  J.,  Analysis  of  the  human  mind, 
313. 


388 


Index. 


Mill,  J.  S.,  system  of  logic,  and  nbridg- 
uieiits  of,  304 ;  pliil.  works,  313 ;  ou 
etliic^,  315;  politital  wrilings,  316; 
political  economy,  318. 

Mill,  A.,  British  India,  1S7. 

Mill,    literature,  etc.,  of  Great  Britain, 

Miliuan,  H.  II.,  History  of  the  Jews, 
ir.8;  History  of  Christianity  in  the 
tirst  three  centuries,  173;  of  Latin 
Cliristianity,  175. 

Milton,  J.,  delinition  and  opinion  of  a 
book,  21,  '22 ;  cxjjrcsses  his  jxTsonal 
fet'lings,  '25,  32,  44,  77  ;  lines  about  the 
reader  ami  his  author,  62 ;  his  crea- 
tions of  living  beings,  78 ;  I'aradiso  lost 
and  regained,  78 ;  lines  on  Athens,  78 ; 
Satan — how  represented,  83,  '4;  con 
trasted  with  the  Lucifer  of  Byron's 
Cain,  84;  and  the  devil  in  Guethe's 
Faust,  85  ;  freedom  of  language,  88, 
'9,  90;  his  prose  poetic,  243;  his 
poetry  and  his  time,  202. 

Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  bards,  126. 

Minor  morals,  works  on,  318. 

Miscellanies,  319-321. 

Mitford,  W.,  a  partisan  historian,  130; 
his  History  of  Greece,  170. 

Mitchell,  1>.  O.,  Edgowood  books,  308; 
Reveries,  etc.,  etc.,  321. 

Modern  critics,  distinguished,  26.'). 

Modern  history,  commends  of,  175,  '6. 

Moioch,  Milton's,  78. 

Montaigne,  .\I.,  on  books,  10;  essays,  320. 

Moou,  C.  W.,  IJiul  English,  etc.,  301. 

Moore,  F.,  Auiericiin  eloquence,  192. 

Moore,  T.,  53;  freedom  of  allusions  in,  89. 

Moral  Evil  in  books  does  not  llow  from 
the  representation  of  evil  characters,82, 
but  from  the  manner  in  which  it  is 
done,  82  ,  moral  inflnonco  of  books 
and  reading,  etc.,  chapter  on  VII.,  72 
-81. 

Moral  lessons  not  alwavs  to  bo  oVitruded, 
95. 

Moral  philosophy,  books  in,  "M. 

Moral  staudaril  for  books  .-ind  reading, 
14. 

Moral  tnith,  imijort/incc  of,  to  the  high- 
est acliievcments  in  literature,  15;  of 
Scott,  Thackeray,  and  Dickens.  88. 

MoroU,  J.  D.,  historical  and  critical  view 
of  modern  philosophy,  311 ;  his  jihil- 
osophy  of  religion.  3:i4 

More,  Si'r  Thomas,  life  of,  190. 

Morgan,  L.  II.,  The  American  Beaver, 
:i06. 

Morley,  English  writers  before  Chau- 
cer; from  Chaucer  to  Dunbar,  292. 

Morris,  W.,  life  and  death  of  Juson,  173; 
!i8  a  poet,  204. 

Motley,  romances  in  history,  162,  '3;  his 
histories,  177,  '8. 

Mozely,  J.  B  ,  on  miracles,  334. 

MQhlbaoh,  Mrs.,  historical  novels,  ICl. 

Muller,  C.  O..  Attica  and  Athens,  171;  my- 
thology, 172;  histor,v  of  Greek  litera- 
ture, 173;  ancient  art.  2^*9. 

Milller,  J.,  liumtm  phvsinloKV,  314. 

Milller,  Max,  philoloslc.il  works,  301. 

Mulford,  E.,  the  nation,  31G. 

Mulock,  M.,  ess.iys,  3.n. 

Muir,W.,  history  of  Greek  literature,  173. 


jr. 


Napier,  peninsular  war,  178. 

Napiers,  the  lives  of,  198. 

Nash,  S.,  morality  and  the  state,  316. 

Natural  history,  works  on,  306. 

Natural  science,  works  on,  304-306. 

Neal,  D.,  partisan  historian,  130. 

Nelson,  life  of,  197. 

Neander,  A.,  general  history  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  etc.,  174;  life  of  Christ, 
etc.,  338. 

"  New  America,"  94. 

New  criticism,  of  German  origin,  266; 
conditions  of;  260;  contrasted  with 
the  old,  200 ;  esteems  matter  above 
form,  207  ;  hius  a  better  conception  of 
literature,  207  ;  characteristics,  267- 
287  ;  is  more  Catholic  than  the  old, 
269;  in  judging  of  writers  of  different 
periods,  207 ;  and  of  different  nations, 
and  remote  ages,  271,  '2  ;  is  eminently 
comparative,  271 ;  is  more  philosophi- 
cal, 272;  is  more  generous  and  genial, 
273;  its  cardinal  maxim,  273;  inter- 
prets the  meaning  of  an  autiior,  274  ; 
illustrated  by  Carlyle  and  Matthew 
Arnold,  274,  '5 :  esj)ecially  of  a  dra- 
matic author,  275  ;  also  the  times  of  a 
writer,  278-283;  aids  biograi>liy,  283,  '4. 

Newman,  F.  AV.,  on  nuu-al  intiuence  of 
jioetry,  82;  remarks  on  grossness  of 
language  and  allusion.  91.  '2;  as  crit- 
ic, 298. 

Newspapers  and  periodicals,  chapter  on 
XXI.,  341-3;'i9 ;  growth  and  incre.-ise 
of,  341-343;  United  States  the  paradise 
of,  342;  <iuarterly  and  monthly  jour- 
nals, 343-319;  at  first  a  necessity, 
growtli  of,  :!13,  '4:  value  of,  344,  '5; 
evils  of,  340-319;  their  reading  often 
suiicrlicial  and  partisan,  340;  skepti- 
cal and  libertine,  346,  '7;  vitiate  the 
style,  348;  should  not  bo  sole  reading, 
348:  newspapers,  349-359;  unequal, 
349;  convenient,  349,  '.50;  powert'ul 
educators,  350,  '.51 ;  often  intellectually 
bafl,  351,'2;  insincere,  352;  their  wri- 
ters often  Bohemians,  3.54;  often  de- 
moralizing, 354-356;  even  whi-n  re- 
formatory, 3.55 ;  sometimes  slanderous 
and  pert'Oiial,  356 ;  bad  in  style,  35G; 
rules  respecting,  35(<-:V)9;  should  not 
be  our  sole  rcatling,  300;  the  good 
shoulil  be  prd'tried,  357;  should  not 
master  us,  ;!5S ;  the  reader  is  respon- 
sible for  his  ni  Mspaper,  3-51. 

Newton,  life  of,  204. 

Niebuhr,  services  in  reforming  liistory, 
131.  '2;  tesiimony  concerning  Christ 
and  Christianity,  134:  on  the  Christ  i.iri 
histories,  141  ;  lectures  on  ancient  his- 
tory, 167  ;  life  of,  -JOS,  '9. 

Nodes  niulinwiana",  29(5. 

North  A«nericaii  Review,  its  prominent 
contributors,  298. 

North  American  Keview,  referred  to, 
.':41,  314. 

North,  Christopher,  ns  critic,  290. 

Norton,  A.,  genuineness  of  the  gospels. 

Novels  of  purpose,  95. 


Index, 


389 


Novels  (and  novel  reading),  chapter  on 
XV.,  218-239;  are  "feigued  histories," 
218;  their  end  is  truth,  218;  those 
road  by  our  grandparents,  219 ;  the 
new  novels,  219 ;  subsequent  progress, 
219,  '20;  Musson's  clasaiticatiou  of 
British,  220;  novels  of  iucidcnt  and  of 
character,  221 ;  taste  of  young  people 
in,  221 ;  of  uncultured  people,  22i,  '3 ; 
change  of  taste  for,  223,  "4;  second 
stage  of,  224;  third  do..  224;  of  pur- 
pose, 225 ;  cannot  all  be  read,  2'i;5 ;  not 
desirable  tb-.t  they  should  bo,  225,  '28  ; 
filthy  novels,  22(5;  should  bo  adapted 
to  the  taste  of  the  reader,  227  ;  and 
varying  moods,  227 ;  represent  the 
author,  228;  i>".dividualized  char- 
acter of,  228 ;  show  the  jiractical 
philosophy  of  their  authors,  229 ; 
power  over  readers,  229;  novel  writers 
control  their  readers,  229  ;  favorite  au- 
thors of,  229;  influence  on  their  readers, 
230;  should  not  be  one's  sole  reading, 
231 ;  reasons  for  reading  them  at  all, 
232-239 ;  novels  amuse,  232 ;  instruct 
in  history,  scenery,  domestic  and  so- 
cial life,  233,  '4;  teach  human  na- 
ture, 235 ;  furnish  topics  for  conversa- 
tion, 237 ;  how  not  to  read  novels,  238 ; 
how  to  read  them,  239 ;  juvenile  nov- 
els, 239. 

Novelist,  the,  expresses  his  own  opinions 
and  feelinp.f,  24;  the  novelist  diffuses 
liiniselt  in  his  work,  228. 

Noycs,  translatious,  338. 


o. 

Oats,  Johnson's  definition  of,  23. 

Odyssey,  the,  jjicturos  the  times  and  life 
of  the  Greeks,  279 ;  and  the  Canter- 
bury tales,  280. 

Oliphant,  Mrs.,  21. 

Olrnstoud,  I).,  letters  on  astronomy,  306. 

Ojihelia,  Sliakspeare's,  79. 

Osbiirn,  monumental  history  of  Egypt, 
1G8. 

Ossoli,  F.  M.,  as  critic,  298,  '9 ;  papers, 
321. 

Otis,  James,  life  of,  200. 

Our  English  Homes,  187. 

Owpn,  Richard,  writings  of,  305. 

Oxford  essays,  20S. 

Oxford  tables  of  history,  151. 


P. 

Pagan  spirit,  the,  in  modern  literature. 
115;  nut  universal  among  cultivated 
men,  116. 

Paganism  in  literature,  123;  its  influ- 
ence and  prospects,  124. 

Paine,  T.,  rights  of  man,  ISO. 

Paley,  W.,  moral  i-hiiosophy,  315 ;  his  evi- 
dences of  Christianity,  334;  Ilora;  Pan- 
lin;c,  335;   his  natural  theology,  :!3i. 

Palfrfy,  history  of  New  England,  190. 

Palgi-ave,  England  during  the  Anglo- 
S8,xon  period,  187 


Palgrave,  golden  treasury,  257. 
Pantheist,  the  ancient,  compared  with 

the  modern,  109,  '10. 
Purdoe,  Miss,  Louis  XIV.,  179. 
Park,  Mungo,  life  of,  197. 
Parke  Godwin,   history  of  France,  179. 
Parker,  J.  II.,  glossary  of  terms  of  archi- 
tecture, 300. 
Parker,  'i'.,  life  of,  208;  preservation  of 

his  library,  366. 
Parkman,  P.,  Book  of  roses,  308. 
I'arkmau's  histories,  190. 
Parry,  Capt ,  life  of,  197. 
Pascal,  B.,  Thoughts  on  religion,  334. 
Paul  Jones,  life  of,.197. 
Paul  do  Kock,  pictures  of  French  life, 

235. 
Pausanias,  Greece,  170. 
Peabody,  A.  P.,  Christianity  the  religion 

of  nature,  334. 
Peabodys,  the,  as  critics,  298. 
Peg  Wofflngton  contrasted  with  Grififitb 

Gaunt,  93. 
Pension,  Johnson's  definition  of,  23. 
Pepys,  S.,  diary  of,  44,  104, 184. 
Periodicals  and  newspapers,  341-359. 
Perils   incident  to  preparation  of  this 

volume,  9. 
Perry,  A.,  on  pol.  economy,  318. 
Perthes,  F.,  life  of,  208,  '9. 
Peter's  letters,  298. 
Philadelphia  (iazette,  341. 
Philip  II.,  life  of,  199. 
Philology,  books  on,  301,  '2. 
Philosophical   criticism,  see   new  criti- 
cism. 
Philosophical  histoi-y,  139;  will  be  writ- 
ten from  the  standpoint  of  eacli  wri- 
ter, 1^0. 
Pliilosophy  of  every  subject  attempted, 

55. 
Philosophy   of  history,  works  on,  193; 

books  on,  310,  '11. 
Philosophical  reading,  303. 
Philosophy,  specuUltive,  books  on,  30S- 

314. 
Physiology,  books  on,  313. 
Physics,   how   rightly    conceived,    303; 

works  on,  304-306. 
Pickering,  T.,  life  of,  201. 
Pictorial  History  of  England,  182. 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  112,  222. 
I'irates'  own  book,  222. 
Pitt,  W.,  life  of,  200. 
Plato,  ti-anslations  from,  172. 
Plumptre,  E.  II.,  translations  from  Soph.- 
ocles,  172 ;  his  Clirist  and  Christendom, 
oM). 
Plutarch,  influence  of,  34;  style  of,  128, 
''.) ;  his  lives,  171 ;  their  strong  hold  on 
boys  and  men,  197. 
Poet,  the,  often  exjiresses  his  own  opin- 
ions and  feelings,  24 ;  is  an  individual, 
245  ;  represents  also  his  own  time  240; 
not  necessarily  popular,  240 ;  poets  J'or 
children,  247,  '8 ;  for  s-peci.al  and  lim- 
ited classes  of  readers,  252,  '3 ;  to  be 
enjoyed  must  be  studied,  253,  '4;  one 
should  be  made  familiar  and  absorbing, 
255. 
Poets,  American,  of  modern  school,  263. 
I'oets.   English,  of  the  modern  school, 
263! 


390 


Index. 


Poetry  (and  poets),  Chapter  tin  5CVI.,  241-  i 
204 ;  dffini'd  in  worils  of  Lord  Bacon,  ] 
240;  a  species  of  feigned  history,  240; 
the  narrative,  descriiitive  and  lyric, 
240 ;  meditative,  didactic,  satirical  and 
dmmatic,  241 ;  versilled,  241 ;  elevated, 
242 ;  grand  style,  242 ;  easily  perverted 
to  tlie  factitions,  243;  protest  of 
Word.sworth  against,  243;  should  be 
simple,  243 ;  prose  writing  poetic,  213 ; 
should  be  human,  244 ;  poetry  defined 
by  Wordsworth,  244,  '5  ;  by  M.  Arnold, 
245;  individualized,  245  ;  examples  of, 
24a ;  reflects  the  culture  of  a  genera- 
tion, 2'l(i;  not  necessarily  popular, 
246 ;  taste  for  cultivated,  247 ;  poetry 
suitable  for  children,  247, '8;  how  a 
better  taste  for  it  may  be  awakened, 
2-19;  and  matured,  250  ;  reader's  likings 
not  to  be  trusted,  251 ;  should  not  be 
forced,  2,)1,  '2;  reflects  special  feelings 
and  culture,  252,  '3;  often  must  be 
studied,  253,  '4 ;  a  single  work  should 
be  absorbing.  255 ;  poetry  educat  s  of 
itself,  2.')6;  selections  from,  257  ;  special 
reasons  for  reaJing,  258-261 ;  it  pleases, 
258 ;  it  imparts  imaginative  power,  258, 
'9;  elevates,  259,  '60;  favors  religious 
aspiration,  260;  Bacon  on,  259;  Cole- 
ridge <■»,  '/CO;  Wordsworth,  lines  on, 
260;  sketch  of  Knglish  jmetry  and 
poets,  261-204;  relifc-ious  poi-ts,  2G4. 

Politics  and  jurisprudence,  books  on, 
31.>-318. 

Political  writers  in  England.named,  188. 

Powell,  Mary,  maiden  and  married  life 
of,  188. 

Political  cconon)y,  books  on,  318. 

Pomeroy,  J.  N.,  Introduction  to  munici- 
pal law,  316. 

Pope's  poetry  and  his  times,  262. 

Porter,  N.,  psychology,  313. 

Pouchet,  L.  A,,  the  universe,  307. 

Prescott,  Ferdinand  aud  Isabella,  177  ; 
as  critic,  298 ;  hij  interest  in  his  libra- 
ry, 365. 

Price,  R.,  on  ethics,  315. 

Price  on  the  picturesque,  299. 

Prideaux's  Connections  not  the  best  book 
to  begin  witli,  146. 

Priestly  on  the  study  of  history,  193. 

Principles  influenced  by  books  and  read- 
ing, 72 ;  chapter  on  VI.,  62-71. 

Prose  writing,  sometimes  poetic,  24.3. 

Psalms  chronologicallyr  arranged,  338. 

Psychological  biography,  206. 

Psychology,  manuals  of,  313. 

Public  library,  see  library. 

Purity,  relations  of  imaginative  litera- 
ture to,  8S-94;  of  the  best  ancient 
poets,  91 ;  of  Scott,  92. 

Putnam,  O.  P.,  suggestions  lor  house- 
hold librBries,  3G9. 

Pjm,  WUliam,  life  of,  200. 

a. 

Q»iartcrly  Roviows.  see  Newspapers  and 
jn-rioiliciils;  their  influence,  2y4  ;  their 
l)r'sint  character,  205. 

Queen  Anne,  writers  under,  formerly  the 
sUndard,  269. 


R. 

Raaz,  hiap  vf  Palestine,  169. 

Itobinson,  II.  C,  saying  of,  18;  life  of, 
208. 

Railway  libraries  noticed,  6. 

lUleigh,  Sir  W.,  life  of,  199. 

Hand,  K.  S.,  Bulbs  ;  Seventy-five  flowers, 
308. 

Randall,  H.   S.,  the  practical  shepherd, 
307. 

Randall's  life  of  Jefferson,  317. 

Randolph,  J.,  life  of,  201. 

Ranke,  History  of  the  Popes  and  History 
of  the  Reformation,  176. 

Raphall,    Post-biblical    history    of   the 
Jews,  168. 

Rasselas,  219. 

Raumer,  von,  History  of  Italy,  etc.,  177. 

Rawlinson,    ancient    monarchies,    167 ; 
Herodotus,  172. 

Reynolds'  discourses,  299. 
Read,  what  it  is  to,  chapter  on,  18 ;  is 
to  communicate  with  an  author,  20; 
with  the  author  in  his  best  or  worst 
condition,  21,  '2;  how  to  read,  chapter 
on  III.,  28-36;  a  great  thing  for  a 
child  to  learn  to,  28;  is  to  converse  with 
a  tiian,  29 ;  should  be  accompanied  with 
attention,  31 ;  how  to  read  with  inter- 
est, chapter  on  IV.,  37-47  ;  should  lie- 
gin  with  what  we  need  or  care  to  know 
about,  38 ;  with  whatever  respects  our 
calling,  39;  with  definite  aims,  41; 
with  a  bonk  always  on  hand,  42;  is 
best  done  upon  definite  topics,  43; 
impossible  and  unwise  to  read  every- 
thing that  is  ])ublished,  60,  '1. 
Reader,  the  relations  of,  to  his  authors, 
chapter  on  V.,  48-fjl ;  should  drier  to 
his  author,  51 ;  and  yet  be  independ- 
ent of  him,  52;  but  not  entirely,  52; 
should  be  able  to  understand  him,  54; 
should  not  fals'  ly  pretend  to.  55 ; 
should  be  in  a  state  to  appreciate  him, 
56;  author,  the  relations  ot  a  reader 
to,  48-61  ;  should  be  one  who  can  give 
somcthinif,  49;  should  be  resjiei  ted  by 
his  reader,  61;  and  yet  not  entirely 
control  him,  52;  influence  of  a  favor- 
ite, 53;  should  be  understood  by  his 
reader,  54,  '5;  should  be  suitable  to  the 
present  stale  of  a  reader,  56. 
Readers,  class  of,  contemplated  in  this 
volume,  16;  numy  have  an  indefinite 
sense  of  what  they  need,  38. 
Reading,  time  devoted  to  at  present,  5  ; 
onu  method  better  than  another,  29  ; 
n<  gleet  of  the  manner  or  matter  of,  30  ; 
good  or  evil  influences  from,  30  ;  ought 
never  to  bo  aimless,  31 ;  of  two  persons 
should  not  be  the  same,  31 ;  why  it  Is 
ever  dull,  31;  p,i»sivo  reading,  33; 
concerning  our  calling  elevates  our 
conceptions  of  it,  41  ;  sliould  be  jirose- 
cuted  with  definite  aims,  41 ;  slicmld 
always  be  kept  in  hand,  42;  should  be 
given  to  definite  topics,  43 ;  how  re- 
tained, 45 ;  religious,  neglected  by  op- 
yosito  classes,  322,  '3;  sectarian  with 
maiiv,  323;  a  duty,  323,"4 ;  of  devotional 
books,  :;;5S,  '9;  on  Sunday,  .339,  340. 
Rebellion,  the  great  in  £ngland,  under- 


Index. 


391 


stood  by  novels,  diaries  and  pamphlets, 
44. 

Rel).  Uion  Record,  192. 

KucoUections  of  a  busy  life,  H.  Greeley, 
204. 

Kced,  Henry,  on  English  History,  193  ;a8 
critic,  2^8. 

Reference,  books  of,  369. 

Reid,  T.,  phil.  works,  313. 

Religion  offensive  to  some  persons,  322; 
neglected  as  a  subject  for  reading  by 
otiiers,  o22,  '3. 

Religious  influence  of  books  and  reading 
general  maxim,  lUl ;  applies  to  faith 
and  feeling,  102;  is  very  general,  102  ; 
rule  for  affirmed,  103 ;  faith  and  feeling 
affected  more  by  a  bad  book  than  by  a 
bad  man,  103 ;  duty  docs  not  forbid 
the  reading  of  an  irreligious  book.  1U4. 

Religious  books  and  Sunday  reading, 
ch  ipter  on  XX.,  322-340  ;  delicacy  of 
the  topic,  322 ;  its  dignity  and  interest, 
322;  neglected  by  two  classes,  322-3  ; 
narrow  with  others,  323;  the  duty  of  all, 
324  ;  H.  books  of  lour  classes,  324;  the 
-good,  324  ;  the  goodish,  'Alb  ;  tbe  good- 
for-nothing,  320 ;  tlio  worse  than  noth- 
ing, 326;  two  questions  about  religious 
books,  327  ;  reasons  why  they  are  so 
numerous,  327  ;  why  treated  with  es- 
pecial forbearance,  327-.330;  signs  of 
good  books,  3>0-333;  B.  on  Theijin 
and  evidences  of  Christianity,  and  tlie 
Christian  history,  333-335  ;  B.  on  the 
Scriptures,  335-338  ;  interest,  of,  335-6; 
B.  of  devotion,  338,  'J. 

Retention  in  reading,  difference  with 
different  persons,  45-6;  no  special 
rules  can  Ije  given  for,  46-7. 

Retrospective  Review,  its  influence,  295. 

Retz,  Cardinal  de,  memoira  of,  179. 

Revolution  in  England  of  1648  and  '88, 
works  on,  185-6. 

Revolution,  American  histories  of  works 
on,  192. 

Reynolds,  life  of,  204. 

Ricardo,  J.,  on  political  economy,  318. 

Richelieu,  life  of,  200. 

Ripley,  G.,  as  crjtic,  293,  '9. 

Ritter,  Carl,  his  services  in  geographv, 
157. 

Robertson,  History  of  Charles  Y.,  177. 

Robertsou,  F.  W.,  life  of,  268-0,  213. 

Robinson,  E.,  Biblical  researches,  108; 
Geography  of  Palestine,  169;  maps  of 
Palestine,  169  ;  Bib.  geography,  3i57. 

Robinson  Crusoe,  222. 

Robinson,  II.  Crabb,  story  of  his  respect 
for  books  as  true,  18 ;  life  of",  208. 

Roderick  Dim,  Scott's,  80. 

Roget,  P.  W.,  An.  and  Veg.  philosophy, 
314. 

Rogers,  II.,  eclipse  of  faith,  etc.,  335. 

Rollin,  C,  34;  style  of,  128 ;  his  history 
of  the  arts  and  sciences  of  the  ancients, 
173. 

Roman  old  life,  only  pictured  in  its 
literature,  281,  '2. 

Roman  History,  works  on,  171.  '2. 

Romilly,  S.,  life  of,  200,  2U3,  208. 

Roscoe.  H.  F.,  Spectrum  analysis,  306. 

Roscoe,  H.,  Historical  works,  177. 

Buffini,  pictures  Italian  life,  235. 


Rules  for  reading  with  interest,  37-47. 
Rul^  for  selecting  biographies,  215. 
Russell,  Lord  John,  life  ol',  200;   on  the 

English  constitution,  307. 
liussell,  W.,  Modern  Europe,  175. 
Xussian  History,  178. 
Raskin,  J.,  modern  painters  and  other 

works,  300 ;  his  essays,  320. 


s. 


Salnte  Beuve,  as  critic,  297. 

Sampson,  E.,  The  brief  remarker,  320.] 

Samson,  G.  \V.,  Art-criticism,  300. 

Samuel,  birds  of  New  England,  306. 

Sand,  G.,  pictures  of  French  life,  235. 

Satan,  Milton's,  78. 

Savonarola,  life  of,  202. 

Saunders,  F.,  Salad  for  the  solitary,  etc., 
321. 

Sclieffer,  Ary,  Christus  Consolator  and 
Chr.  Redemptor,  118. 

Schiller,  F.  C,  e.xpresses  his  personal 
thoughts  and  feelings,  25 ;  his  thirty 
years'  war,  178. 

Schlegel,  A.  W.,  philosophy  of  history, 
193. 

Schlegel,  F.,  on  modern  history,  193. 

Schlegels,  the,  as  critics,  235. 

Schleiden,  J.  M.,  The  plant,  313-4. 

Sehonbcrg  Cotta  series,  162. 

School  libraries,  see  library. 

Schools,  uxy,  and  schoolmasters,  by  Hugh 
Miller,  204. 

Schwegler,  A.,  history  of  philosophy,  311. 

Science,  books  of,  303. 

Science,  superficial  books  on,  305 ;  stand- 
ard works  on,  306. 

Scott,  W.,  21;  expresses  his  own  thoughts, 
25,  32, 53, 77;  his  creations,  living  beings 
79-80;  moral  influence  of,  81,  87,  88;  ethi- 
cal and  religious  truth  of,  88 ;  singular 
purity  of,  92 ;  historical  novels  of,  161 ; 
Ivanlioe,  177 ;  novels  illustrative  of 
English  History,  187;  life  of,  208; 
novels  pictures  of  Scottish  life,  234  ; 
poetry  and  his  times,  290  ;  as  a  critic, 
294  ;  preservation  of  his  library,  366. 

Scriptures  the,  freedom  of  language  in, 
89,  90. 

Scriptures,  picture  the  Hebrew  life,  280; 
study  of  and  books  on,  335-3-;8. 

Self-culture,  this  volume  an  aid  to,  9. 

Self-educated  men  read  with  interest,  42. 

Self-formation,  etc.,  320. 

Self-help  by  Smiles,  202. 

Seneca,  312. 

Senior,  N.  W.,  on  political  economy.  318. 

Seward,  W.  H.,  speeches,  192;  life  of, 
201. 

Shakspcare  expresses  his  personal  feel- 
ings, 25,  32,  77  ;  his  creations  living 
beings,  79;  moral  influence  of,  81,  88- 
90;  liamlet,  and  Byron's  Manfred,  85, 
'6;  freedom  of  language  of,  88,  '9,  90; 
The  family,  design  of,  89 ;  S.  novels, 
187  :  and  the  poets  of  his  time,  261 ;  crit- 
ics of,  277  ;  sometimes  overdo,  277, '8; 
but  stimulating,  278;  and  Ben  Jon- 
son,  contri)vei-sy  between,  278. 

Shal'tesbury,  A.  A.,  essays,  320. 

Shairp,  J.  C.,  as  critic,  298. 


S92 


Index. 


Shaw,  manual  of  English  literature,  293. 

Sholley ;  his  uthuisiu  compared  with 
that  of  Lucretius,  108 ;  his  relation  to 
Byron,  20:5. 

Sherman,  Genl..  life  of,  197,  '8. 

&huckforil's  cuuuectiou  not  the  best  book 
to  begin  with,  146. 

Sidney,  Algernon;  life  of,  200. 

Sidney,  I'.,  defence  of  I  oeaie,  293. 

Sismondi,  decline  and  full  of  Roman 
empire,  174;  history  of  the  Italian 
reimblics,  and  tlie  literature  of  the 
South  of  Knrope,  177. 

Small  books  on  great  subjects,  320. 

Sniedley,  history  of  the  Keformed 
Church  in  France,  179. 

Smith,  Sydney,  as  critic,  294. 

Social  relations,  works  on,  318-321. 

Socrates,  in  a  basket,  65,  '6. 

f'omers'  tracts,  ISO. 

Somers  Lord,  life  of,  200. 

Somerville,  Mary,  works  of,  806. 

Soi)hocles,  translations  of,  172. 

South,  R.,  20. 

South-sea  ijilander  introduced  to  a  public 
library,  2  ;  his  interpretation  of  a  ca- 
thedral, 2 ;  of  a  military  parade,  2  ;  of  a 
festive  gathering,  2;  of  a  gallery  of 
paintings,  2;  incapable  of  understand- 
ing a  librsiry,  2;  or  its  funiates,  3; 
posed  by  l>r.  Dryasdust,  a  scientific 
reader,  a  poet,  a  reader  of  fiction,  3; 
bewildered  by  attempts  to  explain  the 
nature  of  a  book,  3. 

Southey,  R.,  cannot  hide  his  opinions 
and  feelings,  26,  53;  his  test  of  the 
moral  influence  of  a  book,  72  ;  life  of, 
208;  aa  critic,  294;  lines  on  his  libra- 
ry, 378. 

Spalding,  history  of  English  literature, 
293. 

Spanish  history,  writers  on,  177,  '8. 

Spencer,  II.,  Pliil.  works,  313. 

Spenser,  E.,  20 ;  times  of,  287 ;  charac- 
terized, 201. 

Spiel  hagen,    pictures  German  life,  235. 

Spiritual  wives,  94. 

Spooner,  S.,  art  dictionary,  300. 

Spriinor'g  historical  atlas,  l."i4. 

Smiles'  Huguenots,  179;  self-help,  202. 

Smith,  Adam,  on  ethics,  315 ;  wealth  of 
nations,  318. 

Smith,  Alex.,  on  ethics,  315. 

Smith,  Uoldwin,  a  Christian  historian, 
141;  on  the  study  of  history,  193;  Ire- 
land, the  Empire,  three  English  states- 
men, 180;  letter  to  Mausel,  313;  i-a- 
tional  religion,  334. 

Smith,  II.  IJ.,  chronological  tables,  1.">1. 

Smith,  Philip,  History  of  the  world, 
106—175. 

Smith,  W.,  abridgment  of  flrote's  his- 
tory, 17(1;  dictionaries  of  antiquities, 
etc.,  173;  Bibb;  dictionary,  337. 

Smith,  William,  Thorndale',  etc.,  321. 

Smvth,  \V..  on  the  Krench  revolution, 
1"S0;  on  the  study  of  history,  193. 

Snow  Bound,  effects  of  the  reading  of, 

249. 
Sugdi.'n,  Sir  Edward,  habils  of  reading, 
30. 

Sullivan,  W.,  lettT'ni  on  imblic  charac- 
ters, 191, 317  ;  Pol.  class  book,  316. 


Sully,  Duke  of,  memoirs  of,  179,  200. 

Sunday  School  Libraiy,  see  library. 

Snnd.iy  scliool  librano-i,  books  in,  239. 

Sunday  library,  MacMillan"s,  339. 

Sunday  reading,  339,  340. 

Swedish  History,  178. 

Sw  nburne.  A,  his  offences  against  pu- 
rity, 92. 

Swinton's  Rambles  among  words,  301. 

Stanhope,  Eail,  History  of,  183. 

Stanley,  A.  P.,  ^'inai  and  Palestine,  etc., 
169,  337. 

State  Trials,  186. 

Statesmen,  lives  of,  199-201. 

Stebbing,  \V.,  analysis  of  Mill's  logic, 
3J4. 

Stephens,  Jas.,  Lectures  on  the  history 
of  France,  179 ;  as  a  critic,  294. 

Steplienson,  life  of,  204. 

Sterling,  John,  life  of,  20S. 

Sterling,  J.  H.,  the  secret  of  Ilegcl,  313  ; 
as  regards  protoplasm,  314. 

Stewart,  Dugald,  jjrogress  of  ])hilosophy, 
312;  Phd.  works, 313;  psychology,  313. 

Stoddart,  J.,  Glossology.  301. 

Stoicism  in  professedly  Cbri.stian  writers, 
116;  in  modern  literature,  123. 

Stonewall  Jackson,  life  of,  197. 

Story's  Commentaries,  191. 

Stowe,  Mi-s.,  53;  her  historical  novels, 
161  ;  her  influencoon  her  readers,  230, 

Strafford,  life  of,  199. 

Strauss,  F.,  Hidon's  pilgrimage,  168. 

Students  at  school  and  college  desire  ad- 
vice respecting  reading,  7. 

Students'  History  of  France,  179. 

Style,  the,  of  a  writer,  .57  ;  different  judg- 
meijtsof,  58;  the  barbaric,  the  civil- 
ized, as  in  manners,  58 ;  not  of  the 
highest  consequence,  not  to  bo  disre- 
garded, 59  ;  current  faults  of,  60. 


T. 


Tacitus,  force  of  his  epithets,  24. 

Taine,  II.,  as  critic,  297. 

Tautphrcus,  pictures  German  life,  235, 

Tasso,  Jerusjilem  delivered,  177. 

Taste  for  j)oetry  product  of  cultun(,  247; 
of  children,  247,  '8;  how  a  better  taste 
is  awakened,  248,  '9 ;  needs  to  bo  ma- 
tured, 2-JO. 

Tavlor,  Henry,  as  critic,  297 ;  e8.says, 
320. 

Tavlor,  Jeremy,  holy  living  and  dying, 
339. 

Taylor,  J.  J.,  Christian  nsi)ccts,  etc.,  .Ti9. 

Taylor,  I.^aac,  on  Hebrew  poetry,  108; 
ri'storation  of  belief.  3.35. 

Taylor,  .len^niy,  20;  poetic,  243. 

Taylor,  N.  W.,  moral  government,  3.34. 

Taylor,  W.  C,  manual  of  modern  his- 
torv,  175;  natural  history  of  society, 
193. 

Tenilenz-Roman,  9.">. 

Tennyson,  A.,  cannot  hide  his  feelings, 
20-:)3. 

Thackerav,  W.  M..  cannot  hide  his  feel- 
ings, 2.'),  .53;  ethical  truth  of  88; 
Henry  Esmond,  100,  187;  his  influ- 
ence on  his  readers,  230 ;  bis  novels 


Index, 


393 


picture  English  society,  234 ;  as  critic, 
'i'JG. 

Tlioisin,  books  on,  333.  '4. 

Tlieologians  nnil  preacliers,  ■who  have 
liad  a  hifih  place  in  literature,  112. 

Thierry,  Norman  conquests,  187. 

Thiers,  A.,  histories,  179. 

Thirlwall,  C,  history  of  Greece,  170. 

Thomas,  J.  J.,  farm  implements,  307 ; 
fruit  cuUurist,  308. 

Thompson,  U'Arcy,  day  dreams,  etc., 
321. 

Thompson.  J.  P.,  Egypt,  etc.,  IGS. 

Thompson,  11.  A.,  Cliristian  theism,  333. 

Thomson,  tlio  hind  and  the  book,  337. 

Thoreau,  his  influence  on  the  opinions, 
70 ;  is  he  Papan  or  Christian  ?  119. 

Thrnpp,  Anglo-Sa-xon  homo,  187. 

Ticknor.  0.,  history  of  Spanish  litera- 
ture, 177. 

Tischendorf,  when  were  the  Gcspels  writ- 
ten, 331. 

Titian's  last  supper,  remark  on,  referred 
to,  78. 

Tom  Jones,  214. 

Townsenil,  G.  F.,  bible  in  chronological 
order,  3o7. 

Tracts  lor  priests  and  people,  334. 

Translations  of  Greek  and  Roman  au- 
thors, 172. 

Trenck,  liaron.  life  of,  197. 

Trench,  R.  C,  as  critic  on  English  lit- 
erature, 297  ;  on  language  and  words, 

'    301 ;  on  miracles,  334. 

Trollope,  A.,  cannot  hide  his  opinions 
and  feelings,  25;  his  novels  picture 
English  society,  234. 

Trumbull;  McKingal,  lines  from,  76, 192. 

Tuckerraan,  II.  T ,  as  critic,  298,  '9 ; 
book  of  the  artists,  300. 

TuUoch.  J.,  Theism,  333. 

Turner,  life  of,  201. 

Tyndall,  J.,  writings  of,  30o,  '6. 

Tytler,  A.  F.,  modern  history,  175. 

u. 

TJeberweg,  F.,  history  of  philosophy,  311. 

Uhlemann,  Three  Daj's  in  Memi^his,  1C7. 

Uhlhorn,  G.,  representations  of  Jesus, 
oS4. 

Ulrici,  H.,  as  critic  on  Shakspeare,  297. 

Uncultured  people  fancy  coarse  nov- 
els, 223. 

Universal  history,  the,  superseded,  131. 

Upham,  T.  C,  psychology,  313. 

V. 

Van  Bnren,  M.,  life  of,  201 ;  history  of 
parties,  I'Jl,  317. 

Van  de  Velde,  map  of  the  holy  land,  169. 

Vane,  Sir  Harry,  life  of,  200. 

Vaughan,  C.  J.,  Sermons,  339. 

Vaughan,  R.,  revolutions  of  English  his- 
tory, and  England  under  the  Stuarts, 
185;  the  way  of  rest,  235. 

Vaughan,  R.  A.,  hours  with  the  mystics, 
297. 

Vasari's  lives  of  painters,  299. 


Vegetable  Physiology,  books  on,  314. 

VicaiH,  Iledley,  life  of,  19 <. 

A"ictor  Hugo,  pictures   of  French   iife, 

235. 
Virgil,  translated  by  Conington,  173. 
Von  Mohl,  11.,  the  vegetable  cell,  314. 


w. 


Wallace,' n.  B.,  as  critic,  298,  '9  ;  his  pa- 
pers, 320. 

Walker,  J.  B.,  philosophy  of  the  plan  of 
salvation,  etc.,  334. 

Walt.  Whitman,  his  offences  against 
purity,  92. 

Walpole,  Horace,  letters,  164 ;  letters 
and  journal,  185  ;  anecdotes  of  paint- 
ing, 2  9. 

Walworth,  C,  the  gentle  sceptic,  335. 

Ware,  W.,  Zenobia,  Aureliau  and  Julian, 
174. 

AVarren,  life  of,  200. 

Waring,  G.  E.,  draining  for  profit,  307. 

Watt,  life  of,  204. 

Watts,  I.,  on  tlie  mind.  liO. 

Watson's  Philip  II.,  177. 

Waverly,  219. 

Wayland,  F.,  psychology,  313;  moral 
phil.,  315. 

M  ebb,  T.  E.,  intellectualism  of  Locke, 
313. 

Webster,  D.,  82 ;  an  earnest  reader,  35  ; 
love  for  English  poets  and  essayists, 
read  his  few  books  so  as  to  repeat 
them,  his  views  of  Chevy  Chase,  liia 
hi  bits  when  a  student,  35,  'G  ;  sayings 
of,  50;  political  speeches  of,  192;  life 
of,  201-203;  on  religion  as  a  theme 
for  thought,  322 ;  preservation  of  his 
library,  336  ;  pol.  writings,  367. 

Webster,  Noah,  his  definition  of  a  dandy, 
24. 

Weslev,  John,  life  of,  202. 

West,  B.,  life  of,  204. 

VVestcott,  B.  F.,  gospel  of  the  resurrec- 
tion, 335  ;  history  of  the  English  Bible, 
study  of  the  gosi)els,  337. 

Westminster  Review,  the,  its  indirect 
influence,  70. 

Wharton,  F.,  Theism  and  scepticism,  333. 

AVlmtely's,  B.,  remarks  on  reading,  10. 

Whately,  Archbishop,  life  of,  208  ;  on  po- 
litical economy,  318 ;  his  historic 
doubts,  334. 

Wheaton,  II.,  works  on  international 
law,  318. 

Whewell,  W.,  translations  of  Plato,  and 
dialogues,  172 ;  Platonic  dialogues,  312; 
history  of  ethics,  314;  elements  of  mo- 
rality, 315  ;  indications  of  a  creator, 
333. 

Whipple,  E.  P.,  as  critic,  298,  '9  ;  essays, 
321. 

White,  Blanco,  life  of,  208. 

■yVhite,  G.,  Natui-al  History  of  Selborne, 
3(J6. 

White,  James,  eighteen  Christian  centu- 
ries, 175  ;  his  history  of  France,  179. 

White,  R.  G.,  as  critic,  298,  '9. 

Whitney,  life  of,  204. 

Whitney,  W.  D.,  on  language,  etc.,  301. 


394 


Index. 


Whole  duty  of  man,  339. 

Wirt,  life  of,  201. 

tV'ilHam  HI.,  litoof,  199. 

AVilliiim  tlio  .Silent   lile  of,  199. 

Willis,  N.  ''.,  iiiiioi'llauieji,  'AiX. 

•WillKjrforce,  lile  of,  202. 

Willoughl.y,  L;uly,  diary  of,  188. 

■NVilkie,  reiu.irk  reported  by,  78;  life  of, 
2(14. 

Wilkinson,  .7.  O.,  works  on  Egj-pt,  167. 

■W  ilson.  Bishop,  Sacra  Privata  and  Max- 
ims, 33'J. 

Wilson,  0.,  evidences  of  the  Christian 
religion,  350. 

Wilson,  (Jeoige,  life  of,  204. 

Wilson,  Prof.  John,  life  of,  208;  his 
Bovels  pictures  of  Scutti.'ih  life,  2:4; 
as  critic,  2  16;  essays,  :52(). 

Winrk'3lmaiin,  Hist  of  ancient  arts,  2^9. 

Wiseman,  N..  on  science  and  revealed 
religion,  'i'i'^. 

Withiugton,  L.,  the  Puritan.  320. 


Wolsey,  life  of,  199. 

Wood,  J.  O..  natu  al  histoid,  30(3. 

Woolsey,  T.  D.,  on  iiiternatiu'i^al  law,  31& 

Wordswoitli,  C,  Uieece,  etc,  17(1. 

Wordsworth,  Vi .,  cannot  hide  his  per^ 
sonal  feeling,  26,  63 ;  defiiiitiou  of 
poetry,  244,  '5 ;  lines  on  poets,  2,">9 ; 
a  poetic  reformer,  263 ;  as  critic,  295. 

Woolman,  .John,  life  of,  2ii7. 

Wright's  History  of  bress,  187. 

► 

Y. 

Youatt,  W.,  the  horse,  308. 
Youmatis,    E.  L.,  correlation  of  forces, 

300. 
Young,  E.,  the  poet,  77. 
Young,  J.,  evil  not  from  Goil,  334;  the 

Christ  of  History,  3:!4. 
Young  persons'  taste  for  coai-se  novels, 

222. 


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To  bt  published  at  regular  intervals,  in  royal  octavo  volumes,  at  the  uniform  vnci  »f 

$5.00  per  volume. 

WITH   OCCASIONAL  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

The  BIBLE  COMMENTARY,  the  publication  of  which  was  commenced  by  CHARI.E? 
K('RII!JIER  &  CO.,  simultaneously  with  its  appearance  in  England,  had  its  origu 
n  'he  widely  felt  want  of  a  plain  explanatory  Commentary  on  the^  Holy  Scripturei, 
« liich  shor.Ul  be  at  once  more  comprehen.sive  and  compact  than  any  now  putUshed.  Pro 
Jected  in  18(i3.  the  selection  of  the  scholars  to  be  employed  ujwn  it  was  entni.sti>d  to  a  Cora 
mittee  named  by  the  Sjioaker  of  the  Briti.sh  House  of  Commons  and  the  Archbishop  of  York, 
and  througli  the  aKcncy  of  this  Committee  there  has  been  concentrated  upou  this  great 
5\"or^  a  combination  of  force  such  as  has  not  been  onlistO(i  in  any  similar  undertaking,  in 
Encland.  since  the  translation  of  King  James's  version  of  the  Bible.  Of  the  TKIKTY-SIX 
DIFFKUEN'T  DIVINES  who  are  engaged  upon  the  work,  nearly  all  are  widel>  loiown  is 
this  country  as  well  as  in  England,  for  their  valuable  and  extensive  contributi.'sis  to  th« 
Literature  of  the  Bible,  and  in  this  Commentary  they  condense  their  varied  leau^iiig  and 
their  mo.st  matured  j  udgments. 

The  great  object  of  the  BIBLE  COMMENT AKY  is  to  put  every  general  reader  and  stu 
dent  in  full  posses.sion  of  whatever  information  may  be  necessary  to  enable  him  to  unaerstand 
the  Holy  Scriptures ;  to  give  him,  as  far  as  possible,  the  same  advantages  as  tlie  SchoLsT,  and 
to  supply  him  with  .satisfactory  answers  to  objections  resting  ui>on  misrepresentations  oi 
misinterpretations  of  the  text.  To  secure  this  end  most  effectually,  the  Comment  is  chiefly 
explanatory,  presenting  in  a  concise  and  readable  form  the  results  of  learned  investigations 
carried  on  during  the  last  half  century.  When  fuller  discussions  of  difficult  passages  or  im 
portant  subjects  are  necessary,  they  arc  placed  at  the  end  of  the  chapter  or  volume. 

The  text  is  reprinted  without  alteration,  from  the  Authorized  Version  of  161 1,  with  margina. 
refeivnces  and  renderings;  but  the  notes  forming  this  Commentary  will  embody  amended 
translations  of  passages  in-oved  to  be  incorrect  in  that  version. 

The  work  will  be  divided  into  EKHIT  SECTIONS,  which  it  is  expected  will  be  comprised 
in  as  many  volumes,  and  each  volume  \vill  be  .a  royal  oct,avo  Typographically,  special  painj 
hits  been  taken  to  adapt  the  work  to  the  u.^^e  of  older  readers  and  students. 

N.B.— The  American  edition  of  the  Bible  Commentary  is  iirlnted  from  stereotype  plates, 
duplicated  from  those  upon  which  the  English  edition  is  printed,  and  it  is  fully  equal  to 
that  in  every  rosixjct 

THE  SECOND   VOLUME   OP 

THE  BIBLE  COMMENTARY 

Is  now  ready.     It  contains : 

THE  HISTORICAL  BOOKS. 

Which  are  divided  as  follows  among  the  contributors  named : 

JOSHUA Rev.  T.  E.  Espin,  B.D. 

(  Rt.  Rev.  Lord  Ahthub  Hervet,  M.A.,  Lord  Bishop 
JUDGES,  RUTH,  SAMUEL.  •<      of  Bath  and  Wells,  author  of  rnspiraUon  of  the  Holy 

\      Scriptures,  Genealogies  of  Our  Saviour  .etc.,  etc. 
KINGS,  CHRONICLES,  (  Rev.  Geo.  R.\wlinso>',  M.A.,  Camden  Prof,  of  Ancient 
EZRA,   NEHEMIAH,-(      History  at  Oxford,  author  of  The  Five  Great  Monar- 
ESTHER    (     chleii  (if  the  Eaxt,  Mamial  of  Ancient  History,  etc. 

Ftdl  prosjiectuses,  with  division  of  sections  and  names  of  contributors,  sent  to  any 
address  on  ai)plication.     Single  copies  sent,  post-paid,  on  receipt  of  [irico,  by 

SGRIBNER.  ARMSTRONG  &  CO.,  654  Broadway.  N.  Y. 


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